


The Matchmaker

by fictive_frolic



Category: Avengers (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Breeding Kink, Cockwarming, Cuddles, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gentle Sex, Sibling Relationship, Soft Bucky, meet cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-12-24 16:43:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 39,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21102692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictive_frolic/pseuds/fictive_frolic
Summary: Rebecca Barnes- Proctor enjoys playing cupid and her Big Brother is her next mark.





	1. Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes was, at heart, a marshmallow. Anyone who’d known him before the war, before his time as an assassin, knew that he was a nerd with a soft spot for stay pets and chubby-cheeked kids.

Luckily for Bucky Barnes, there were only two people alive who knew that information. Steven Grant Rogers and Rebecca, his baby sister. Everyone else still believed he was terrifying. He was okay with that. It was nice having a respite and his reputation both.

Still, as he sat in his Sister’s little townhouse, watching her bustle about checking the clock and fixing tea, he had suspicions. “Who are you waiting for Becca?” he asked fondly. She tutted, “My girl is late today,” she tutted, “Silly creature. She must have lost track of time.” Bucky smiled a little, confused, “Your girl?” Rebecca nodded, “The Companion that the Agency sends over. She does my fetching, some tidying up, and helps me get to my appointments.” Bucky nods after a moment, the lights coming on for him.

“Becca,” he said sternly, “No. Absolutely not.” She stopped and for a moment he could see the precocious 10-year-old she had been, “But why not? She’s darling. Just the sweetest little thing.” Bucky sighs, “I don’t… please no. I don’t have time for a girl, Becky.” Rebecca sets down the tea tray firmly, “I’m not getting any younger Buster. I waited my whole life to be an Aunt… Just meet her. You’ll love her. She’s perfect.” Bucky sighed, “Please tell me you didn’t hire a Companion just to find me a date.”

“Of course not,” she laughed, “But Y/N is a lovely girl. Sweet. Ma would have loved her. We get along perfectly well. We have since she helped me at the Nursing home after my fall. I requested her specifically when I heard she transferred. Then you came back to life… The fact that she’s perfect for you is a coincidence.” Bucky groaned, “Becca, let the poor girl do her job and go home.” She sniffed, “I’m not a madam,” she says, “If she isn’t interested, she isn’t interested… I just think you would suit.” Bucky kisses her cheek and smiles a little, “What if I’m not interested?” She hands him a cup of tea and gives him a smug smile, “You will be,” she said. 

Bucky didn’t have much longer to wait. It was awkward now, sitting on Rebecca’s little sofa, feeling like she was lying in wait. When you came through the door, letting yourself in with your key, Rebecca smiled. “There you are dear, I was getting worried! You’re never late.” You set bags down on the counter and hang your jacket up, smiling, “Sorry, Miss Becca,” you tell her, “The pharmacy was really, really, backed up. But, you should be set for the month. And I got the things on your shopping list.” You put your bag down and pause, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you had company coming!” Your cheeks color and Rebecca pokes idly through the bags, “Don’t worry about him, dear. That’s just Bucky. He’ll stay out of your way.” She pats your hand and tuts, “You look pale. Have you had lunch yet?” she fusses.

You smile fondly, “Yes, ma’am,” you tell her. “Actual luch or an apple and a cookie on the train in?” she quizzes. “I had some soup and my sandwich,” you tell her. Your eyes and your voice are warm. Bucky can feel himself melt and internally curses how perceptive Rebecca is. The older woman nods, watching you as you set about putting things away and setting up her medications for the week. You’re quiet, staying out of the way to let Rebecca have her visitor without feeling like you’re intruding. You bustle about efficiently, commenting when she asks you questions, responding when spoken to but otherwise staying quiet, trying not to listen in and keeping out of the way. 

Every word you say makes Bucky melt just a little. He loves your voice. Sweet and clear. Soft but not whispy. “Miss, Becca?” you ask, hands folded, “Is there anything else you need for the day?” Rebecca turns and pats the loveseat next to her, “Sit with us a while, dear?” she asks, “I’m thrilled having people over. It does get lonely sometimes.” You smile a little, “As you like,” you tell her taking a seat. 

She fixes you a cup of tea that you take with a smile and a quiet thank you. Bucky is willing to bet you aren’t usually this quiet. That you probably feel as awkward as he does. You sip your tea politely and let Rebecca fuss at you. Bucky doesn’t miss that she seems to be giving him information about you, pressing gently. You start to excuse yourself and Bucky watches as you start to bundle yourself back up into your jacket and your scarf. Rebecca makes a show of being tired and gently throwing Bucky out. 

“Rebecca,” he murmurs as she adjusts his scarf, “Behave.” She grins, “I shan’t. You’ll make beautiful babies.” She turns to you as you refill your water bottle in the sink and pulls you into a hug, “Let Bucky walk you to your bus stop,” she pleads, “It’s getting dark and I don’t like you going home alone.” You smile a little, “Miss Becca, I’m sure he has much better things to do.” She laughs and tugs your scarf, “Nonsense. He might be a superhero now, but he’s still a gentleman, he’d be happy to walk with you.” She turns and arches her eyebrow at Bucky, daring him to gainsay her. Looking like she’ll turn to holler for their Ma and tattle if he doesn’t. “Of course,” he said, kissing her cheek, “Of course, Rebecca. Don’t worry. I’ll see her home.” He walks with you to the door and tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow. 

It makes him happy when you smile shyly and blush. “I’m sorry about Rebecca,” he apologizes quietly when the door shuts. You sigh but laugh softly, “Don’t worry, Mr. Barnes,” you tell him, “When I worked with her at the nursing home she tried to set me up with a new male nurse every week… It’s how she says “I love you.” That made Bucky smile, “She’s one of a kind, isn’t she?” You smile softly, “Yeah,” you answer, “I promise, I won’t tell her if you don’t have time to walk me to my stop.” Bucky gasped softly, “And lie to Becky? Absolutely not. She may not be able to tell on me anymore but she CAN tell Captain America to kick my ass. I’ll be walking you to your stop. Like a good boy.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is no match for a guilt trip.

After that first day, Bucky tried. He tried very hard NOT to go to Rebecca’s if he knew you were there. He knew that even if you cared for her, and he knew you did. He could just tell. You were still there to do a job. A job that might have been to do whatever she asked, but the limit for what you were allowed to do probably stopped well before getting fucked raw by her long lost big brother so she could experience the joy of being an Auntie. 

Today he’d not been so lucky. And he was grateful. His heart had fluttered when he’d heard you call out a hello from the doorway. Today you’d brought yarn and some groceries. Chattering lightly about some recipe and how excited you were for cooler weather because “All my cute clothes are fall clothes. I look cute for two weeks then go back to being a swamp goblin.” Becca had smacked you lightly on the arm and insisted you were lovely. Bucky couldn’t help but agree to himself.

You really were pretty. Even dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans you looked pretty. His baser masculine instincts also told him you had curves he’d really love to touch. He’d laid in bed several times thinking about them. Not that he’d ever admit it. Even if he blushed and stammered when Rebecca and Steve had teased him about you. “Stevie,” she’d said giggling, “you should have seen his face. He was smitten the second she opened her mouth.” Steve grinned, “She’s plush, huh?” Rebecca had giggled, “They don’t make girls like her anymore. Not like they used to. They’ll make pretty babies.” Steve had punched Bucky on the arm as he choked on tea. He’d heard her say it before but not while also discussing your curves.

Now, as he was headfirst under Rebecca’s bathroom sink, pretending he knew anything about how to fix it, he could hear her. He smiled to himself. Sam was right. She was the perfect Hype man. Bucky felt about 10 feet tall knowing that his little sister still thought he was strong, brave, and basically perfect. She was telling you about all the times he’d rescued her cat out of the tree outside their old building. He remembered that cat. And especially stupid siamese named Darling. She’d had a pink ribbon and some wicked claws. Until Bucky had been given the Serum, he’d had scars on his arms and hands. “Dearest,” she said, “I really wish you’d let him take you out.” 

He listens quietly and chuckles to himself. You sigh, “Miss Rebecca,” you say exasperated but still fond. He can hear the sound of dishes rattling and knows you’re puttering around in the kitchen, putting dishes away. “Honestly,” she presses, “You’d make such beautiful babies!” He hears a soft gasp and the clatter of a knife on the floor and a quiet, ‘Oh dear. I’ll get the kit.” 

He’s just pulling his head out from under the sink, having figured out what the problem was. That Rebecca had put a small wad of tissues in the drain. “Oh, Bucky. Good. You haven’t snuck out… Could you bring out the first aid kit? Y/N’s cut her hand.” She’s a little out of breath and looking anxious. He nods getting to his feet, “Sure Becca,” he said. She nods and bites her lip, “The poor dear doesn’t do well with blood. Hurry.” She bustles out of the room tutting and wringing her hands, chattering at you and trying to persuade you to sit.

When Bucky walks around the corner, you’re frozen on the spot. Bleeding through a dish towel you’d hastily wrapped around your hand. He shakes his head, “Becky, get us some peroxide or something, huh?” he asked gently. You’re white as a sheet and a fine sheen of sweat is covering your skin. You look like you can’t breathe properly. He’s willing to bet Rebecca’s chatter isn’t helping. She nods, eager to have something to do. 

“Hey, Sugar,” he coaxes, helping you to a chair, “It’s alright. We’ll get you fixed up. It can’t be that bad.” He opens the kit and unwraps your hand carefully, “Can’t do blood huh?” he asks making conversation as he starts cleaning your hand with the peroxide from the kit. “Just mine,” you manage after a second. He tuts, “This is alright. It’s not too bad… She must have startled you a bit. What’d she say this time?” Your cheeks color just a little, “She was very insistent that we’d make very beautiful children,” you say. Privately you didn’t disagree and wouldn’t mind trying. He was really fucking gorgeous. Even if he needed a hair cut. But, professional boundaries dictated you not voice that. Bucky sighed, “Christ,” he groaned, “I can’t believe that my baby sister is trying to pimp me out.” That makes you giggle and he can’t help but blush, smiling to himself. A little pleased. “Could be worse,” you tell him, trying not to enjoy how gentle he’s being. “How?” he asked looking up, smiling a little. “I’m not sure,” you say giggling, “But I can tell you she’s not told me about any of the other… very gay, very married, or very odd men she’s tried to set me up with.”

Bucky grinned, “Well, I’m glad to know I’m a step up. I’m neither Gay nor married. I might be a little odd though.” You smile, “Do you have a fetish for taxidermy animals or peanut butter?” Bucky can’t help it. He laughs, “Oh god, really?” You sigh and nod, “To Miss Becky’s credit,” you say, “Three of the couples she did put together in the nursing home are still together… I was apparently a much taller order.”

“Nonsense Darling,” Rebecca said, “There just wasn’t anyone to your caliber.” Bucky blushed scarlet when she walked in, leaning back. He’d been leaning forward, edging closer to your lips. You were just so fucking pretty when you smiled. The color was coming back into your cheeks and that was good. It meant you probably hadn’t gone into shock. It was probably just an anxiety attack that had passed.

He let go of the bandaged hand he was still holding and turned to start gathering up the kit. Rebecca inspects his handiwork and nods approvingly, “It’s good to know you learned something after 70 years,” she tells him. He kisses her cheek, “The army was good for something after all… Stop startling the poor kid,” he tells her. She shakes her head and pats your cheek, “I’m sorry, darling,” she said, “I’ll have to stop meddling I suppose. It just isn’t meant to be.” She shuffled off to finish her dishes and Bucky shook his head, “Ma would be proud,” he tells her, “You’ve mastered the Jewish mother guilt trip very well.” You purse your lips to keep from smiling when she scowls at him. “I’ll have you know you two would be happy together.” 

“Miss Becky,” you say fondly, “As much respect as I have for your matchmaker skills… We can’t exactly just start having babies. He hasn’t even asked me on a date, yet.” She stomps her foot, “James Buchannan Barnes, Mother would be so disappointed.” Bucky blushes and smiles a little apologetically before he speaks, “Becky, if I take Y/N to dinner and we’re both bored and miserable will you leave her alone about it?” She clasped her hands together and gasped, “You mean it? You’ll go?”

You sigh, “If he asks and it would make you happy, Miss Becca.” Her whole face lit up and Bucky couldn’t not ask. He remembered that look when Father had given her Darling, in a wicker basket with a silk ribbon around her neck. 

“Y/N,” he asked, clearing his throat, “Will you have dinner with me? And get my bratty little sister off my back?” He smiles at you and your heart flutters just a little, making you slap the back of your hand mentally. “I’d be delighted,” you answer, giggling. “Then I’ll meet you at 8,” he says, “text me your address?” You nod, pulling out your phone where you’d added him to your phone. “It’s a date, I guess,” you say blushing. 

“Then you better go get ready,” Rebecca said clapping her hands, “Go go go!” She hustles you into your coat and out the door, insisting that Bucky could finish up for you. All you had to do was go home and get cute.

Bucky stared at the gleaming metal of his hand and realized with a jolt that you hadn’t even flinched. Or stared. And he hadn’t noticed that he didn’t feel the warmth of your hand in his. For just a moment, he’d felt… normal. Blissfully unaware and normal. He said a quiet prayer to whatever god might be listening. Thankful for the millionth time that the universe had blessed them all with little sisters


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky rang the bell at the address you had given him and was greeted at the door by a very large man dressed in pants that made him look like a fawn and grease paint on his face to further the illusion. “You must be Bucky,” he said holding out a hand, “Y/N told us you were coming… I’m Nathaniel. A roommate.”

Bucky took the hand he proffered and nodded, “Nice to meet you,” he said. Nathaniel smiled and welcomed him inside, “Pardon the mess. And don’t mind the costume. I’ve got a photoshoot later.” Bucky wanted to ask what for but on the other hand, he thought it was probably best if he didn’t know. Some things about this century confused the shit out of him still.

Nathaniel introduced him to the others. Rocco, Paris, and Rowan, all of them seemed to be very gay. Very gay and sometimes into each other. Bucky shrugged mentally. Good for them. The offered him a beer while he waited and he took it with a smile of thanks. They interacted with him cheerfully but seemed guarded. Like they were assessing him. Not that he minded. It was good to know that there were people who were going to know where you were and what you were doing. He knew he wasn’t going to hurt you but. Bucky only planned on this being a one-time thing. Humoring his sister so she’d let you do your job. 

He felt a little awkward as he sipped his beer and listened to their plans for the evening. Something about going clubbing. A weird sort of underground club. It sounded interesting. Interesting and decidedly inappropriate for a first date. He doesn’t register you at first. Too engrossed in listening to one of your roommates explain the intricacy of his last encounter with another man. It was a fascinating comedy of errors. Having culminated in a broken penis and a sobbing high school sweetheart who hadn’t yet noticed the insane amount of gay porn on the communal computer. Long story short, he had a brunch date with the sweetheart and he was going to help her find some totally hot shoes. You pause in the kitchen door and Paris whistles softly, “Yas, Queen,” he says, “That’ll look lovely crumpled on the floor later.” You blush and shake your head, “It isn’t that sort of date,” you tell him, “We talked about it remember?” 

Bucky finished his beer to keep from saying “But I wouldn’t mind the change.” He turns and for just a second, he can’t breathe. Your dress is soft grey velvet the color of the sky before a storm. Your lips are burgundy. Your shoes are delicate heels. It’s obvious you enjoy looking pretty. And Bucky doesn’t mind. He’d like to see that dress on the floor. Your lipstick smeared on his chest as you pin him to the bed. His mouth is suddenly dry and he wishes he hadn’t just finished his beer. He wants to take you upstairs and beg you to have your way with him. “Oh you talked,” Paris said, “And talked. And talked. We just don’t believe you.” Your roommates all wear smirks and grins and knowing smiles as you flip them off and slip your fingers into Bucky’s hand. “C’mon,” you tell him. “We’ll go do this and humor Miss Becca. I’ll take a cute picture you can show her.” 

“What do we tell Mama Penny when she calls?” Rocco shouts. You half-turn, “Just tell her I’ve gone out. I’ll call her back when I get home.” Bucky follows after you, mentally berating himself. This wasn’t that kind of date. You were doing this to make HIS sister happy. He didn’t have a right to be picturing you straddling his hips and having your way with him. 

He didn’t have a right to be planning the next date. 

Still, as your bandaged hand rested in his, he was happy. He had a pretty girl on his arm and it just felt normal. “So,” you ask him, “What instructions were you given?” You’re smiling and it makes his heart feel warm. You know Rebecca well. “I’m to show you a nice time, be a gentleman, and make sure I don’t let you get away.”

You laugh softly, “That’s assuming you’re interested in me to start with.” Bucky felt a pang. Did you not konw how beautiful you were? How sweet and soft you looked? How could he not be interested? He wanted to kiss you stupid. Forget dinner and a walk through a book store. He wanted you to know that Rebecca was right. You were his type. Sweet and funny. A big heart and a hard head. “Or you being interested in me,” he counters. You smile a little instead of answering and Bucky doesn’t miss the soft pink blush on your cheeks. 

“So,” he says, clearing his throat and redirecting the conversation to keep from confessing that he loved you right there. “Who’s Mama Penny?” he asked. You smile, “That’s my mom. She adopts every stray child she meets,” you explain. He smiles a little, “I see. Your roommates included?” You nod, “Especially those chucklefucks,” you say fondly, “They straight bought her a shirt that says “Proud mom of a bunch of dumbass kids” she wears it like once a week. She loves it.” Bucky smiles, “She sounds fun.” You nod, “I adore her… The only problem currently is that she wants to be a grandma about as much as Rebecca wants to be an auntie.” He snorted, “So did you tell her what you were doing tonight.” You laugh and shake your head, “Absolutely not. She’d be sending me baby names by midnight.” Bucky felt his cheeks color and opened the door of the cafe, “And that’d be awkward.” You smile, “Very. Very awkward.”

You pause off to the side and get Bucky posed to take a cute picture. One to show Rebecca and prove they’d actually gone out. Bucky holds you close to him to steady you but keeps his hands at your waist. He smiles and lets you take a couple. He shakes his head, “Silly Millenials with your cellphones,” he grouses. You shrug, “At least we have proof.” He pulls out your chair for you and takes his own seat before taking his own picture of you, smiling slightly. “Just in case,” he says quickly. “Right,” you say blushing as you order a bubble tea and a Salad. Bucky orders himself a coffee and a burger. He realizes that you feel awkward. That you feel like he has no reason to be here aside from wanting to appease Rebecca’s mother hen instinct. He stood slowly, “I’ll be right back,” he said, “Restroom.” You nod and take a sip of your bubble tea, “Alright. Make new friends.” Bucky can’t help it. He snorts and he enjoys the little smile you give him as you pull out your phone to wait. 

In the restroom he pulled out his phone. Bouncing nervously from foot to foot. “Sam,” he said when the other man grunted a hello, “Help me I’m drowning. Like this isn’t a real date but like. If I don’t come up with some shit to talk about this is gonna get really awkward… More awkward than it already is.” Sam whistled softly, “You got it bad huh?” Bucky groaned, “She’s… Rebecca knows me. Really well…. I’m fucked.” Sam chucked and shouted over his shoulder “Rogers, Romanoff, Pay up! The first panic call came in before 9pm” Behind him, Bucky can hear a chorus of groans and Steve yelling, “I’m telling Becky!” Bucky made a soft distressed sound and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. You were so sweet and warm. So soft. He was afraid he’d hurt you but he couldn’t just leave. Sam made a soft sympathetic sound, “Look man,” he said, “Ask her about school. Tell her a cute Story about Rebecca. Just relax.” Bucky took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. School I can ask about school. That’s good. That doesn’t have awkward things attached to it. She studies linguistics.” Bucky nodded to himself. “Okay. Thanks, Sam.” Sam sighed, “Sure. Any time. Got get her, tiger.” 

Bucky hangs up the phone and nods to himself before going to splash water on his face. Normal. A normal date with a pretty girl. No stress. No pressure. 

He’s not going to think about Rebecca or his arm. He’s not going to think about the technical age gap. He’s not going to think about what he’d name your kids. That’s it. A fun night out. Just one. No more. You deserve better than him. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “I can do this,” he said softly. 

As he walks back to the table, you’re texting idly. Waiting for him. You look a little distracted and dreamy. It’s cute. You’re cute. Really cute. He sits back into his chair and smiles, “Sorry about that.” You smile, putting your phone away, “No worries. It’s all good.” Bucky takes a sip of his coffee and sighs, “So, how’s school been going?” You smile, “It’s school. Relentless research. Trying to get some moving pieces and parts together.” Bucky winces sympathetically, “How goes the quest for funding?” You shrug, “It goes. Honestly, if I’d spend less time writing and more time writing grants I’d get done quicker but… it’s just so tedious. I mean. Sometimes I want to give up and be a trophy wife but like… You have to be pretty for that so. That’s out of the question.” The Assassin snorts, “Darlin’ you can do better than being a trophy wife, you’re too smart to be doing that.” 

You smile a little, “I mean. I know. But sometimes. Sometimes. When I’m tired of typing and making ends meet, I just really wish that was an option.” Bucky snorts. “Well. I mean. We could probably work something out… How good are you at making Apple Pie?” 

You arch an eyebrow, “I knew you were too good to be true,” you sigh, “Anyone Miss Rebecca fixes me up with just HAS to have a weird kink.” Your date can’t help it. He laughs. A big full belly laugh that makes him through his head back and makes several servers turn to stare.


	4. Chapter 4

“Isn’t she just divine?” Rebecca gushed happily. She’d taken one look at him and known that he was gone on you. He’d kissed your cheek and stood under the street lamp, making sure you’d made it into the house. “She’s really something,” he agreed.

He’d had to forcibly keep himself from following you and kissing you properly. He was afraid if he started kissing you properly he’d forget that it was the first date. He’d have that dress in a wad in front of the door and he’d carry you half-naked to the bed like a caveman. But he couldn’t say that to Rebecca. “Are you going to take her out again?” she pressed. Bucky sighed, “She has to talk to her boss and see if it’s even allowed,” he said, “If it isn’t then, no. I don’t really want you to lose your companion.”

Rebecca stirred her tea and frowned, “But if you’re dating her it’s not like I won’t see her anymore.” Bucky smiled a little, “We’re talking about it, Becca... Just talking.”

His sister sipped her tea, “And how long will you be just talking?” He chuckled, “Rebecca, Y/N wants to take things slow. She wants to get to know me before we start a relationship.” She tutted, “What’s there to know? You like each other. You haven’t stopped smiling since you started talking about her.” He patted her hand, “She has her reasons. And I don’t blame her.” She sighed, “None of us is getting any younger, Bucky.” Bucky patted her hand again and kissed her cheek, “I promise,” he said, “We’re gonna try. We just. We need a little time. I’m gonna meet her tonight when she gets out of class. Take her for coffee.” She nods, still not pleased but momentarily mollified. 

“Why is this so important to you darlin’?” he asked. She smiled sadly, “I just don’t want you to be alone when I’m gone, Bucky,” he opened his mouth to protect and she hushed him. “That’s the reality, big brother,” she said, “I’m glad I got to have you back for the time I get to have you. But I love you. And I adore Y/N. I want you to be happy when I’m gone. To know you have someone to lean on.” Bucky smiled sadly, “I love you, Becca,” he murmured, “I promise it’ll all be fine. Don’t worry about me.” She smiled, “I’ll always worry about you.”

_______

Bucky left her apartment not long after that, tucking her blanket around her and making sure she was comfortable. It wasn’t a very long trip to the coffee shop and Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to be seeing you again. He wanted that first kiss. The sweetest brush of your lips against his. He’d had a lot of first kisses in his time. This one, he figured he was looking forward to the most. 

That night, in his bed. After he snuck into the tower. He laid in his bed thinking. He was wondering what you’d feel like. Your touch on his hand had been soft. The little skin of your chest was smooth and silky looking. He wanted to feel the rest of you. He wanted to feel you coming apart around you. The silk of your skin under his hands as you bring your self off on his throbbing prick until you’re sweating, sobbing mess. He wants you to fuck him into oblivion and leave him sore and sated. It had been enough to drive him to take himself in hand. His prick throbbed as he imagined you in front of him. He hadn’t been this desperate to touch a girl since he first hit puberty. Since he’d had his first fumble with Eloise Midgen in the back of the shop where she worked. 

it had been quick and he’d giggled and been embarrassed. She’d been sweet and shy but willing. She’d known what she was doing. She’d been 20 and a bit of... well in his day she’d been a tramp but. Now she was just 20. That was nice. He liked that there was less stigma about women having sex. He liked having sex with women. He preferred not having to do it in secret to save their reputation while he got to enjoy his reputation as a lady’s man. 

As he walked into the coffee shop you’d told him about, it wasn’t just the cold that was making his cheeks pink. He was thinking about last night, panting and moaning your name as he came all over his hand. He coughed softly and wove his way to the table. You’d already ordered for him. Something that catered to his sweet tooth, he imagined, And some pastry. He made his way to the table and bent to kiss your cheek, kissing you hello. He adored the way your eyes lit up and you smiled at him. “How was Miss Rebecca today?” you ask smiling. He took his coffee and a fork to help himself to your pastry. “Fine, Just fine. Told me to tell you she says hello. And that you clean up really nice.” You smile warmly and chuckle, “I’ll thank her tomorrow.” Bucky took your hand, his metal thumb grazing your knuckles, “What did your boss say?” he asked. “She said that if it was anyone else, she’d have concerns but, Miss Rebecca has been getting companion services from the agency a long time. The boss figured that at this point she’d just be frustrated having to break in another companion.” Bucky smiled a little and squeezed your hand, “She’ll be thrilled. She was a little worried you were going to have to leave this job once you were out of school anyway.” You sigh, “I’d thought about it. But Linguistics jobs don’t make much. At least if I stay with the Agency for a little while longer I can make ends meet and finish my doctorate.” 

Bucky kissed your hand, “Not a bad plan doll,” he said, “But you know Rebecca would be happy to see you even if you didn’t work for the agency anymore.” You nod, “I know, she’s been telling me she’d be even happier to see me if I married you.” There is an affectionate eye-roll and he chuckles. “My ma would be so proud of her capacity to lay on a guilt trip. Really. It’s a thing of beauty.” You smile and sip your coffee, “I’m sure. Miss Rebecca regularly guilt trips me into staying for dinner.” Bucky grins, it doesn’t surprise him. His ma had done that to Steve several times. A desperate bid to put weight on his small frame to keep him from getting any frailer. You were healthy but you were young and busy. It was probably a way for her to look after you the way you looked out for her. “Thank you,” he said, “For taking good care of her.” You smile softly, “It’s an honor, honestly.” Bucky feels himself melt. You’ve got a gentle heart. A heart he wants to protect. For a few minutes, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, nibbling pastry and sipping coffee. 

You watch the people outside, staring out the window. The sky is getting dark and the street lamps glow through the changing leaves. The trees are just stunted little city trees. Nothing like the massive oaks that split the sidewalks and create a safety hazard to any person silly enough to try and look cute wearing heels. You yourself had rolled your ankle more times than you cared to remember trying to look hot rambling around town with your fountain pop and a pack of cigarettes. Ripped jeans and men's flannel tied around your waist. 

Bucky watched you, stroking your fingers, “What’s wrong, Kid?” he asks. You snap back into the cafe and shake your head, blushing, “Nothing. Just... Homesick for a second.” He nods, “Where’s home?” You grin, “It’s a little town out in the middle of the sticks. The Sherrif can hit every building in town with a rock from the front steps of the courthouse... And the trees next to the sidewalks are actual trees. Not overgrown shrubbery.” Bucky snorts, “Hey, squirrels live in them. They’re trees.” He let his accent get just slightly thicker and more affected and you giggle. “Whatever you say but, If I can’t climb it I don’t count it.” The brunette rolled his eyes but gave your hand a squeeze, “When do you see your Ma next?” You sigh, “Not til the Week between Christmas and New Years. If I can scrape the money together for a ticket. And a rental car. It’s three hours from the airport to home.” Bucky frowned and nodded. He didn’t like the idea that you might not get to see your mother for Christmas. He had a sense that you probably missed her a good deal. He knew he missed his Ma, even if he’d had time to come to grips with her death and with the fact that she had had to grieve for her oldest child. 

You smile, “It’s not that bad. I have most of the money I need already stashed away and I have some time. If nothing else, I can get a rental car and drive. It’s only like 20 hours.” Bucky blinked at you for a second and then grinned, “You really are from the sticks, huh?” You nod, “Had to drive 30 minutes just to see a movie for most of my life.” The brunette kissed your hand and shook his head, “Well darlin’, I’ll take you to a movie any time. You just say the word. There’s theaters all over the place here. Even if tickets are like $10 now.” You blush when he uses pet names. He looks sweet, a hint of a cocky smile on his lips. You’d like to kiss him stupid and beg him to take you home.

You’d like to whisper into his ear all the dirty things you thought about him doing to you that night as you spent some quality time with your toys. You want to feel his hands on your skin. The cool metal of one making you shiver as he strokes your too warm skin while the rough calloused flesh of the other stokes the fire. His fingers penetrating your cunt so he can see you come. You need to hear his voice thick with want. You’d give anything to hear him tell you you’re a good girl as you find your release. You’d give anything to have him tell you you’re being a brat as he turns you over his knee to spank you to the perfect shade of red.

You’re thankful Bucky can’t read minds and press your thighs together just a little trying to reign yourself in. You said you wanted to take things slowly. And you did. You really did. You just hadn’t expected everything about the man to make you want to rip his clothes off. Silently as you reached for your coffee cup, you smacked the back of your hand. You swore you weren’t going to beg. You were going to be patient and take this slow. Make sure you didn’t get in too deep too quick. But as Bucky stole another bite of pastry and missed his mouth, fumbling to try not to look like a dork, you were pretty sure you were already in deeper than you planned on being.

_________

Leaving the cafe, he helped you into your coat, his fingers grazing the back of your neck as he helped you lift your hair out of the way. He didn’t miss the way you shivered. “Cold, doll?” he asked a hint of teasing in his tone. “Maybe a little,” you murmur, blushing. Bucky doesn’t press on that, even if the ache in his prick tells him that he needs to. That you’re ready and willing, all he has to do is sweet talk you.

He forces himself to calm down. Tucking your hand in the crook of his elbow and kissing your head. “Let me walk you home, sweetheart?” he asks. You nod, smiling up at him, “I’d like that if you don’t have anything better to do.” He grins, “If I don’t walk you home, Becky will never let me live it down... We could be married with a dozen kids and she’d still lecture me about letting you walk home alone.” You blush and look down. You already knew this was about Rebecca wanting to be an aunt, about giving Bucky someone to start a family with. But the way he was looking at you made you feel like he already had you naked. And you wouldn’t mind, maybe not a dozen kids. Maybe two or three. As long as they got his eyes and that damn cocky smile. 

Y/N?” he asked softly, making you look up again. He cups your chin in his hand and smiles tenderly, “Can I kiss you?” He watches your eyes light up and your cheeks color as you nod shyly. “Please?” you answer, the word whispered against his lips as he leaned in. 

In the halo of streetlamp light outside the Cafe, Bucky Barnes gets his first kiss in a new century. He keeps his touch soft, cradling you to him gently. Your lips are sweet. They taste like coffee and icing and it makes his knees feel a little weak. He’s dimly aware that he likes the way you’re feeding his sweet tooth even now. He smiles against your lips when he pulls away, blushing, you giggle. Elated and a little dizzy. “Am I that out of practice?” he teases, brushing hair out of your eyes. “Maybe a little,” you tease back gently, “But I could take one for the team... I wouldn’t mind helping you get back into the swing of things.” Bucky grins, “Then let's get you home, Doll. If I’m gonna ruin your lipstick, I’d rather do it on your couch than standing out here in the cold.” You can’t help it. You burst into giggles even as his fingers lace through yours to walk you the four blocks back to your house.


	5. Chapter 5

In the morning, you let yourself into Rebecca’s townhouse, hefting the bag a little higher on your hip to keep it from slipping.

“Y/N?” Rebecca calls, “Is that you dear?” You smile a little, “Yes, Miss Becca!” you call back, setting your bags down. “The Agency called me this morning. They said you wanted me to come by earlier today.” The elderly woman eased herself up out of her chair and padded over, poking through bags idly. She’d long stopped actually checking through them. You were efficient and you always told her if you had to deviate a bit from her list anyway. She nodded, “Hiram is coming in from California later today,” she said, “I know how… uncomfortable he makes you sometimes.”

You smile a little, “I still would have come, you know that.” She smiles and pats your hand, “I know. You’re a good girl.” She waits while you help yourself to a cup of coffee before dragging you to the sofa to chat, “Miss Becca,” you protest, laughing, “I’ve got to get your things situated and get your washing done!” She laughed, “Hang the washing, I’d rather hear about your date.”

You shake your head and smile, “Rebecca,” you protest, “What happened to not meddling?” She took a sip from her own mug and grinned, “I’m not meddling. I’m gossiping.” You pat her hand, “It went fine. Just fine. We talked about what my boss said, we talked about a TV show, I introduced him to the Cafe a few blocks from my house. And Chai Lattes.” She smiled, “He does have a sweet tooth… He loves Butter Pecan Icecream.” You nod, “I noticed… I probably shouldn’t tell him my mama owns a bakery still in my home town.” 

Rebecca giggled, “I’ll tell him… The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, after all.” You roll your eyes fondly and bustle around to get her a fresh coffee, “I’m pretty sure Bucky would tell you that the best way is actually between the 4th and 5th rib.” An exasperated sigh from the livingroom tells you she understood the joke and was trying not to encourage you. “Did he kiss you at least?” she pressed. 

“I didn’t kiss and tell, Miss Becca,” you tell her gently, handing her coffee. “ She pouted a little and you smile, “We had a perfectly lovely evening and that’s all I’m going to say.” She nods and sighs, “Fine. I’ll just ask Bucky later.” You giggle, “That’s the spirit, Miss Becca.”

___________________

The truth was, it was more than a nice evening. Bucky had indeed devoted considerable effort to ruin your lipstick. The make-out had been intense. He’d pulled you onto his lap to straddle him and you’d gone willingly. It had made you dizzy, being so close to him. Feeling him get hard underneath you. His moan against your lips when you’d tangled your hand in his hair and nipped his lip. It had taken considerable effort not to grind on him. You needed to feel more of him. A primal need to tear his clothes off and fuck him until he couldn’t walk.

“Bucky,” you pant as his hands find the hem of your shirt about to rip it off, “we need to stop.” His hands stilled and you bit back a disappointed groan. “You’re gonna kill me, darlin’” he groans, “Been 70 years since someone kissed me like that.” You laugh softly and lay your head on his shoulder. 

You need to stop kissing him because if you don’t, you’re going to start begging him to take you. That doesn’t mean though, that you’re ready to stop being close to him. He isn’t ready to let you go either, judging by the way his arms wrapped around you. You swallow hard, “I’m sorry I just,” you start and he hushes you gently. “No apologies,” he murmured, “I understand… even if I was hoping I could kiss you good enough you’d forget and let me get you naked.” You snort and he rubs your back, “I can wait,” he assured you gently, “Slow is okay as long as I get to do it with you.” 

He cuddles you close. He wants to fuck you stupid. His cock is aching and he’s willing to bet you’re very ready for him. He’s willing to bet you’re aching too. But you’d wanted him to stop. He couldn’t fault your logic. You’d been hurt before. Been used and abused by people who weren’t worthy of you. It was fine. Fair that you wanted to take your time. He wanted to shift your weight but he couldn’t bring himself to. He was relishing the feel of your body against his. It felt good. It felt safe. Better than the weighted blanket Natasha had bought him. 

“I’m gonna dream of how good you feel,” he whispered kissing the side of your head. “God, Kid,” he murmured, “I never wanted a first kiss so bad.” You make a shy sound and nuzzle his neck, “I wanted it too. So bad,” you tell him. He smiles to himself and hugs you tighter.

“Can you stay?” you ask softly. “Stay?” he asked. You nod, “Just. Just to sleep,” you murmur, blushing. Bucky felt himself melt. It was so innocent. Just a simple request to be held while you slept. “I’d love to,” he said gently, kissing your forehead. The way your eyes lit up was worth knowing he’d probably not sleep at all, too distracted by you to be able to close his eyes.

He’s right. He’s still awake when you reach across him to answer your phone just before dawn, “Yeah?” you say yawning.

Bucky smiles and situates himself to watch you.

“No, It’s not time for me to be awake yet,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes and sitting up slowly. “ ‘S fine mama,” you say yawning again. “No, I fell asleep before I got your texts… It’s too early for you to be trying to encourage me having kids out of wedlock so you can be a grandma stop.” You groan and Bucky chuckles quietly, refraining from pointing out that he could have put a baby in you last night and solved both of your problems. 

You reach over and gently put a hand over his mouth, silently pleading with him to stay quiet, “No mom,” you tell her, “Just no… What are you gonna do if we decide we don’t want kids? Or that this isn’t even going to work?” There’s a slightly panicked series of sounds and you smile a little, “Then chill out and just let us figure it out. Mom, he’s an Avenger and I’m a boring academic. Just relax… It could be worse. I could have taken Rob back after he cheated on me the second time.” You roll your eyes, “Mama,” you tell her yawning, “Can we do this after I get my coffee? I love you too. I’ll call you again soon.”

You hang up the phone and Bucky pulls you into his arms again, tucking the blankets around you, “You’re a lot of things doll,” he said, “But you’re not boring.” he murmured, kissing you good morning. You blush and nuzzle his chest, “Let’s see what nonsense names my mom sent me,” you snort, “I’m gonna hate it but I gotta know.”

He lets you resituate and glances at your text messages, “Khaleesi?” he asked confused. “She likes Game of Thrones,” you explain. “Reagan… nope. Nope absolutely not. Trickle-down economics are bullshit and drugs are fun,” you say scrolling. “Paisely, Kohl, Jaxon… Nope. No.” Bucky laughed, “Where does she find these?” You groan, “I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I just want her to stop. Bucky we’ve had two dates!”

“And we slept together,” he rumbled, pressing a soft kiss into your neck, chuckling when you shiver. 

“Dirty old man,” you murmur, tossing your phone aside to nestle back into his arms. “Your dirty old man if you’ll have me,” he said smiling. 

“I think I’ll keep you,” you murmur, “You’re comfortable to lay on.” He grinned, “Happy to be of service,” he said, swatting you gently on the backside. Relishing you little involuntary shudder of pleasure when his palm made contact. “Take me to breakfast before I get started?” you ask. He made a soft thoughtful sound, “Breakfast with a pretty girl after I spent the night with her,” he hummed, “In my day it would have caused a scandal.”

“In your day,” you say, wiggling out of his arms to get dressed, “People died of head colds.”

“Fair point… If I order extra bacon will you help me eat it?” he asked stretching.

“Only if you don’t judge me for ordering chocolate chip pancakes,” you say, pulling a hoodie on.

“Deal,” he laughed, finger combing his hair.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky dodged out of the way, panting and finally starting to work up a sweat. “So,” Sam said grinning, “You didn’t make it home last night.” Bucky snorted, “Nope.” He launched his next attack and Sam laughed, “ C’mon man,” he said, “Give us the gory details! Does she giggle? I bet she giggles.”

Bucky feels his cheeks color at the memory of your soft moan when his lips grazed your neck. The way you gasped softly when he swatted your backside. “All we did was sleep,” he protested, “we put in a movie and she fell asleep about 10 minutes in.” Sam laughed, “Netflix and Chill doesn’t actually mean you chill, Buck.” The Brunette sighed, “We’re taking things slow for now,” he explained, “But... It was really nice. She’s something.”

Sam softened a little, chuckling, “You got it bad huh?” Bucky nodded, “She’s fucking amazing,” he said. He smiled a little, “I’m not even sure how she does it but, she feels like home.” Sam swung at him, “Damn, a girl blue balls you and you just go all to pieces huh.”

Steve snorted behind them, taking a drink from his water bottle, “Nah, Bucky’s a good boy. He stopped before it got that far.” 

Bucky half turned to glare at Steve and the blonde grinned unrepentantly, “What? Becky called me this morning after Y/N left for the day. She wanted details since Y/N wouldn’t tell her. So I might have told her you didn’t come home last night.”

“Steve,” he groaned. Steve laughed, “Oh my god. She was thrilled... She also told me to tell you ‘I told you so’.” Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, “Swear. She opens her mouth and Ma comes out.” 

“Right?” Steve said. “So, you fell asleep... How was breakfast?” he asked stretching. Bucky felt his cheeks color, “It was nice. We talked.” 

Sam grinned, “Got the wedding planned yet?”

“Shut up,” Bucky murmured, cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. 

_________________

Bucky strolled through the library looking for you. You’d told him the Study room number and that it was on the 4th floor. You’d told him your meeting would be done around 4. That after that, you were all his. 

He liked that idea. He also wanted to take you to meet his friends. Maybe once they met you they’d stop teasing him. He took a seat in a vacant chair outside and settled in. He was running a little early, happily. It gave him a chance to just watch you.

He loved the animation in your face and the way you lit up with warmth as you talked with the people at the table. He knew it was a creative writing group, you’d told him that. He wondered what you liked to write about. Judging by the fact that you finished reading and were summarily told variations of “Fuck you,” and “Go sit in the corner” he assumed you were good at making people feel feelings. 

At the end of the meeting, as you erased the board and gathered books and things to put in the box now sitting on your chair, he walked into the room. “Hey!” you say smiling up at him, “You found me!” You stand on your toes to kiss his cheek and he melts, pulling you into a hug. “Of course,” he said, cold metal fingers tucking hair behind your ear. “You did basically tell me I could have my way with you this weekend. I wasn’t gonna miss that.” You snort and shake your head, “Has it really been 70 years since you had sex?” Bucky shook his head, “No. But... The last time was. A bad idea,” he said, “She was... possessive to say the least.” You frown, “I’m possessive,” you tell him. 

“Not like this,” he said, “You like when I pay attention to you. You just want me to be faithful... She didn’t want me to talk to anyone. About anything. Like we dated for like 6 weeks and if I didn’t call her every day she’d lose her goddamn mind.” You wince sympathetically, “I’m sorry. That’s some shit.”

He shrugged, “You’re a lot more comfortable,” he said softly. “I’m glad,” you tell him, slipping your arms around him and snuggling into his chest. “Is it weird that I missed you today?” you ask him.

He chuckled, “I missed you too, darlin’,” he murmured. You look up at him, “Really?”

You look up at him all wide-eyed and sweet and he kinda wants to break things off. He’s terrified he’ll hurt you. But he can’t bear you never looking at him that way again. So he leans down and kisses you. The barest whisper of a kiss that makes you shiver for want of just a little more. “Of course I did,” he murmured, “You’re my girl.”

He smiles when your cheeks color and you start to pull away. “We better get going if I’m gonna get cute to go out with you tonight.”

“You’re already cute,” he says, “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you in another dress.” You giggle, “Horn dog,” you scold without any real heat. “I like what I like,” he said smirking, “And I love what you look like in cute little dresses.” You blush and kiss his jaw, “I’ll see what I can do.”

_________

Bucky enjoyed waiting for you to get ready. You chatted with him as you did your hair and make up, answering his questions about the apps on your phone, telling him about your nieces and nephews. He liked listening to you. He loved hearing you be passionate. He loved how curious and bright you were. 

You asked him questions. About his life, about being an Avenger. About places he’d been. He was thankful you avoided asking about his time as the Winter Soldier. 

“Darlin’,” he called tying his shoes, “Are you almost ready?” You give your hair a last fuss and slip into your heels, “I think so, what do you think?” 

He pauses, looking up from his shoelaces. For a moment, he couldn’t think. You were wearing a soft hunter green dress. Heels, and your hair was tumbling down your back. You looked, to him, like you had stepped out of a fairy tale book. “I think I’m gonna have to beat guys off of you with a stick,” he said grinning. You blush and he stands up, “You look beautiful,” he says.

“Nice enough to be seen anyway,” you allow. Bucky doesn’t like that but for now, he lets it go, helping you into a jacket. 

_________

Bucky watched, sipping his drink, as you schooled Steve and Sam both in pool. Laughing as they tried to figure out how you’d gotten so good at it. 

Your shyness had been endearing, and it was still there. Bucky could see little flashes of anxiety as you looked for him from time to time. He knew though that Steve and Sam weren’t going to do anything to make you uncomfortable. They liked you. 

Liked you enough to tease you. They’d both pitched baby names and Sam had recommended Tiffany for your engagement ring. You’d rolled your eyes and kissed Bucky’s cheek, “Guys,” you told them, “If you don’t quit it, we’ll just live in sin and adopt dogs.” Bucky had chuckled and hugged you close, “Yeah, and we’ll name the dogs after you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Bucky loved this century with you in it. Before everything had just felt awkward and strange. He felt like a goddamn missionary in a strange country. Except he wasn’t trying to convert anyone and everyone seemed to be trying to convert him. 

You never did. Even if you teased him about being a fussy old man, he was as he was and all you wanted to do was spend time with him. 

That was nice.

Really nice. He loved waking up to you asleep with your head on his shoulder. Hugging him to you like a massive teddy bear. He loved the feel of you. Knowing you were safe and warm. Feeling like he’d come home at long last. 

Missions he still hated. He was tired of fighting. He was tired of struggling. Of watching people die. Of being the reason that they died. 

He craved the simplicity of being with you. How safe it all felt. When he got home, he ached to be close to you. For warm hugs and tender hello kisses. For his favorite meal and cuddles in your bed. He just. He couldn’t bring himself to call you. He felt dirty. He felt like if he touched you, he’d ruin you. 

“Call her,” Rebecca said sternly, glowering at him. 

“Becky, it’s not that simple,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you fighting?” she asked?

“No, but,” he started.

“Are you disinterested in her?” she shot back.

“No!” he cried.

“Then call her, James,” she said firmly, “She’s giving you the space you asked for. Now you pull it together and call the poor thing.” 

Bucky shook his head, “Becky, I killed people. Bad people but… people.” 

Rebecca squeezed his hand, “She knows, James. She knew who you were before you ever plucked up the courage to take her to dinner.” 

The former assassin sighed, “She’s too good for me,” he said softly. 

“Hush,” she said. “Just let her love you, Bucky. Stop deciding things before they need to be decided.”

Bucky sighed and kissed her cheek, “How’d you get so smart, huh?” 

She smiled and patted his cheek, “A lack of head trauma probably had something to do with it,” she said fondly. “Now you tidy up and go see your girl, hm? She’s missed you.”

______________

Bucky stood outside the study room where your roommates had told him you were. Your head was bent over your books and papers. Ink stained your fingers. You looked frazzled and stressed and it looked wrong on you. You were supposed to be all wide eyes and big smiles. He paused, hand on the door and took a deep breath.

“Hey, Kid,” he said softly. 

Your head snapped up and you grinned, you out of your seat and clinging to him like a spider monkey. Your lips crashing into his, hungry and needy. Bucky wasn’t ready for it. He caught you, if only just, his hands sliding over your backside to support you as he hefted you closer. 

You taste like mint and coffee and pastry. He melts into you and his hand tangles in your hair, his tongue sliding against yours. It isn’t until he tastes salt that he pulls away, wiping tears away with his thumb. 

“Shhh,” he soothed, “I’m sorry. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” You hide your face in his neck and he rocks you softly, stroking your back. “I was so worried,” you murmur. 

“I know,” he said, “I just… I felt. I felt like I couldn’t touch you. Like. Like I was too… Like I couldn’t come home.” You smudge desperate kisses along his jaw and card your fingers through his hair, “Except you’re home for me too, jerk,” you scold gently. 

“I can’t sleep right without listening to you snore. There’s too much space for me to take up,” you tell him. He smiles tenderly and rests his forehead against yours, “Baby… I’m sorry,” he murmurs. 

“I’ll forgive you on one condition,” you tell him. He looks up at you and quirks an eyebrow, “What’s that, Kid?” he asks, relaxing fractionally when he sees you smirking. And blushing. “Take me home and let me tear your clothes off,” you tell him. 

Bucky feels his knees buckle and he grins, “Yes ma’am,” he says, “anything you say.”

“Anything?” you ask, mischief in your eyes.

“That’s what I said, Darlin’“ he drawls, putting you down so you can pack up your books.

__________________________________

Hungry kisses burn down Bucky’s chest as you unbutton his shirt. He’s already throbbing and aching for you and you just got started. You’re amazing, he decides. And you’re wearing way too many clothes. 

He reaches for the hem of your sweatshirt with eager hands and you slap them away gently, “You first,” you pant. He groans, “Baby,” he protests. 

“You said anything,” you remind, teeth grazing his nipple and making him whimper in want. 

“Fuck,” he moans, “I’m gonna remember this. Brat.” You grin up at him, looking feral and hungry, “I’m planning on it,” you tell him. 

“I’m gonna turn you over my knee and spank you until you can’t-” he pants, “Fuck.” He can’t think to finish that thought. His prick is exposed and you’re kneeling in front of him. His hands find your hair, not to push your head but to stroke your hair. He chokes on a strangled cry as you lick up the underside of his prick and take him in your mouth, working him slowly with your tongue. 

This was new. Girls in his day didn’t do those kinds of things, but then… girls in his day didn’t tend to have four gay roommates. You were doing things to him he’d never felt before and he was getting close. 

It had only been a few minutes. it couldn’t have been long and he was already about to burst. “Stop,” he panted, “Stop, don’t- not in your mouth.” 

You pull away and nuzzle his lower belly, standing to strip yourself bare. You maintain eye contact with him as you stand in front of him, smirking slightly, “Do you want me on top?” 

He nods, breathless and helpless. He reaches for you, making grabby gestures, “Gimme,” he said softly, “God. Please. Wanna see ride my dick.” 

You nod, “If I can even take all of you,” you tell him, smirking as you roll a condom over him slowly. Bucky chuckles and cups your ass in his hands, “Take your time, beautiful,” he says, “I got all night.” You sink down onto him slowly and he claims your lips in a kiss that makes you shudder with need.

“Fuck,” you whimper, adjusting to him slowly, “God you’re fucking huge.” He groans with want and buries his face in your breasts, wordlessly worshipping you body and showering you with praise. 

When you start to move on him, he almost loses it that instant. He lets his head loll back and just loses himself in the feeling of you. His hand grazing up your thigh. Searching eagerly for your clit. He wasn’t coming without you. He didn’t want bliss if he couldn’t feel you with him. 

“Yes,” you pant, “Yes. I’m- oh. Fuck. Fuck.” you cry out, nails sinking into his neck and Bucky lets himself spend inside you, biting into your shoulder to muffle the roar. 

_________

In the quiet of your room, somewhere between rounds three and five, Bucky held you on his chest. “I love you,” he said softly.

You look up at him and smile tenderly, “You promise it’s not just the afterglow talking?” He chuckles and swats you on the ass, “No,” he said, “you brat. It’s not the afterglow… But I still can’t feel my toes quite right.” 

You giggle and kiss him slowly. “I love you too, handsome,” you tell him.


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky watched you put away Rebecca’s groceries and pills, smiling a little. You’re keeping up a running stream of commentary for her about this and that. It’s cute. If he didn’t know better he’d say you weren’t working. 

Of course, for you, you weren’t. Not really. You’d talked to Rebecca about resigning from the Agency and just keeping her company without being paid for it. She wouldn’t hear of it. Not for any reason. It had been a running conversation. Rebecca usually responded by guilting you into staying for dinner and doing some homework at her Kitchen table. 

“Hey,” you say, kissing him hello softly. “Hello, beautiful,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist and sticking his hands in your hoodie pocket. You lean back against him and sigh. He knew you were getting a little down. You couldn’t actually get home for Christmas this year. It was three days away and you were just shy of the money you needed.

He hated it. He kissed the hide of your head tenderly and cuddled you for a moment. “Baby,” he murmured, “You say the word. We can leave to see your ma tomorrow.” You sigh, “I can’t let you do that.”

“If he doesn’t do that,” Rebecca called, “I’m not ever speaking to him again.” You sigh, “Becca,” you start.

“No,” she said, “There are people coming in tomorrow, Sweetheart. I’m not going to be alone for the rest of the holidays.” Bucky gave her a grateful look and smiled, “Please?” he said, “I should probably meet the woman that’s trying to name our kids.”

“Kids we don’t have yet,” Bucky added quickly when Rebecca looked like she was about to start fussing at him for getting you in a family way without marrying you. You snort and half turn to look up at him, “You’re sure you don’t mind? I mean you’ll miss seeing everyone when they get here.”

He smiles and kisses you softly, “Darlin’ it’ll be okay... Aside from that your ma has been sending me pictures of the candy she’s been making. I might literally die if I don’t get to try it.” You giggle, “Well, anything for your sweet tooth,” you murmur. 

“It’s settled then!” Rebecca said clapping her hands, “Go on. Get going! You need to pack.”

____________

You kiss Bucky softly and smile up at him as he closes the trunk. “You sure you want to drive, Doll?” he asks, “It’s snowing.” You smile, “I learned how to drive in it a long time ago, Bucky. I’ll be fine. Also, Stark Tech has a massive fucking dead spot anywhere near town. You’ll wind up getting us lost.”

You take the keys out of his hand and kiss his cheek, jumping into the passenger seat. “You know,” he drawled fondly, “I’m a pilot. Pretty sure I could handle getting us to your ma’s house.”

He doesn’t mind though. He likes having the opportunity to watch you. To admire the curve of your lips. You’re singing along with the radio and pointing things out to him on the way. 

It looks like an alien terrain. It’s America but worlds away from where he usually spends time. You pull into town and it looks... It looks like an episode of an old TV show he watched with Becca. Tree lined, brick streets. Kids roaming in massive kids packs. It’s sweet. He smiles to himself, thinking that he wouldn’t mind raising kids in a little town like this. “Did you tell your ma we were coming?” he asked.

You shake your head, “I thought I’d surprise her,” you tell him. He grins, “And give her less time to start coming up with reasons you should have a baby with me.” 

“That too,” you added, snorting. You pull up to the bakery and stop the car, getting out and pausing to hug your boyfriend, “Thank you,” you tell him quietly. 

“Anything for you, darlin’,” he says, cupping your jaw and kissing you softly. You looked at him like he’d given you the world and he felt 10 ft tall. It had just taken a few phone calls. His cheeks colored and you smiled. “You’re such a dork,” you tell him, giggling. 

You take his hand and start to lead him across the street and he stops, “Your ma isn’t going to be mad that I’m here, is she?” he says uncertainly. You smile and tug him after you, “Are you kidding? She’s convinced that you’re going to be the father of her grandkids... She’d be furious if I didn’t bring you with me.” He smiles and follows after, happy to be with you. 

Even if he feels a little awkward, it’s nice to be with you. 

You let yourself in through the front door and duck under the counter easily. The whole place smells like Bucky’s personal definition of heaven. All sugar and pastry. It makes his mouth water and you smile at him, pressing a finger to your lips, “Mama?” you call softly.

There’s a clatter and a gasp and then before you have time to say anything else, your mom has you wrapped in a hug and is simultaneously kissing your cheeks and calling you an asshole for not telling her you were coming. You laugh and hug her hard. You missed her. This smell. The way it felt to have her hug the stuffing out of you.

Bucky watched, smiling to himself. Worth it. He thought, totally worth it. It didn’t take long for him to wind up in her crosshairs. He got the same bone-crunching hug and she pulled him down to kiss his cheeks, “You’re an asshole too,” he said, “But I’ll keep you since you brought my baby home.” He chuckles and she grins up at him, “I’m glad to meet you finally,” he said. 

“I know, I thought Y/N was never gonna bring you home,” she said. “I’d never let that happen, ma’am,” he assured her. 

He liked her. He could see where your warmth came from. The sweetness. He found himself settled with hot chocolate and a piece of cake out of the case as you got pressed into service. Apparently, there was a wedding cake, candy orders, and about 12 pies that still needed to be made. So you tied your hair up, put an apron on and got to work. 

It was nice. The comfortable ebb and flow of conversation. “Where are Ty and Jack?” you ask stretching your shoulders. “They took the van up to Napanee to drop off the last loads of peanut brittle and what not for the Maple Lane people,” Penny answers.

You nod, “So the kids,” you start. “Are at the house with your dad... Mari and Collette are up in the city doing the last of their shopping.” You nod, “How’s Booger doing?” you ask. Penny smiles a little, “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” she said. 

You look at her curiously and she smiles, “Give Dan a few minutes to get the kids loaded into the truck... You can see for yourself.” 

__________

Bucky didn’t have time to ask any questions. He knew who Booger was, your youngest nephew. The baby. The quiet one. It had taken him forever to start talking and when he did it was hard to understand. 

The cacophony of kid voices out front made you stop what you were doing. You bolted out of the kitchen and into the front lobby, engulfed in squealing, giggling little boys. They accepted hugs and kisses and told you all about legos and Minecraft. It didn’t take long for Bucky to see the youngest, hiding behind your dad’s legs and peeking out uncertainly. 

Your mom deftly distracted the other boys and you held your arms out, “Hey Booger!” you say smiling. The little boy needs no more encouragement. He bolts into your arms and koala hugs your torso. You hug him tight and kiss the side of his head. Bucky glances at Penny and she smiles, “That’s his person,” she says shrugging, “they understand each other.” He’s started talking to you at full speed, telling you all about Harry Potter and his wand and Voldemort, and Quidditch. 

Penny pauses for a second watching tears well up and she smiles, “Last time she saw him he didn’t talk that much.” He watches you hug him harder and smile, “That’s really cool, buddy,” you tell him, blinking back tears. Eventually, the lure of a cookie from Grandma and some cocoa and meeting a real-life superhero is enough to make him wiggle out of your arms. 

Bucky gets an introduction to your dad. The man is massive. Nearly 7ft tall and quietly terrifying without being outright menacing. He takes Bucky’s hand and shakes it, “Nice to meet you, Son,” he drawled. Bucky nods, “Same here, sir,” he said trying not to be nervous. “You be good to my girl,” he said, “You hear?” Bucky nods again and swallowed hard. 

He’d murdered people. He’d fought battled with Aliens. This was the most terrified he could actually remember being. “I wouldn’t want it any other way, Sir. She’s... I love her.” That earns him a look of tacit approval and the massive man smiled a little, “Good,” he said. The Brunette let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and looked back towards you. 

You’d managed to extricate yourself from the kids and made your way over to your day, throwing your arms around his neck when he stooped down.

He scooped you up off your feet easily and hugged you hard enough that Bucky heard the distinct sound of your back popping. “Hey, dad” you groan. He chuckles and kisses the side of your head, “Hey, Sunflower,” he says. He sets you down on your feet carefully and brushes hair out of your eyes. “Glad you made it home,” he said, “Your mama was thinkin’ you’d never make it back for a minute.” 

“Bucky made sure I made it back,” you say, wrapping one arm around the former assassin’s waist and looking up at him adoringly.

“I’m just in it for the candy,” Bucky said kissing your forehead. You snort and smack his chest lightly. The big man’s rumbling laugh takes him by surprise for a moment but it doesn’t take long for him to join in. He liked this. He felt welcome and warm and it felt like... home. He couldn’t wait to tell Becky all about it.


	9. Chapter 9

“Barnes, you need to go get your girl,” Ty said quietly as he strolled through the house to find him. The Guy was 12 years your senior and of the three of you he had met, the least prone to dramatics. Currently, he looked tense.

Bucky was on his feet before Ty had even made it all the way across the livingroom. “What’s going on?” 

“Look. Our older sister is here and like… She and Y/N don’t really mix well. Like Ashley is a narcissistic bitch. She… Just go get her. Y/N is like 4 minutes away from beating Ashley’s ass.” 

Bucky nodded. He didn’t need telling twice. He’d seen you doing martial arts and he knew damn well that you’d never need him to beat someone up for you. For you, it may be mostly discipline and meditation but you were still well-practiced. You were listening to a litany of complaints and humblebrags from a blonde woman. 

You looked like you were getting chubby. You looked tired. Were you still studying the alphabet? I just went to Rome for four days. Nothing about you was good enough. 

The supersoldier decided he didn’t like this girl. He didn’t like how she was talking to you and he didn’t like that you were quietly taking it to try and keep the peace. “Baby,” he said, looping his arm around your waist and steering you swiftly out of the room, “Come sit with me a while.” You settle on the arm of his chair and hide your face in his neck for a second.

“Ugh,” you groan, “I am getting fat.”

He tutted and smacked your thigh gently, “Stop it,” he said, “You’re perfect. Even if you do get fat, you can lose weight. She can’t change her shitty personality.” You snort and he cuddles you gently. “I love you,” you tell him, looking up at him. 

“I love you too, darlin’,” he says kissing you softly. He kisses you until the tension drains out of you and you melt into his arms. He smiled, “Better?” he asked. You nod, “Better,” you murmur. 

_______________________

He’s thankful that Ashley doesn’t stay long. She gets her obligatory “I love my family” pictures and bails. It makes everything go back to normal. The air is lighter and even the blissfully unaware kids are back to bouncing around the house. 

Ty and Jake catch his eye and jerk their heads towards the door, indicating that he should follow. “You look like you need a drink,” Jake explained. “Is it always like that?” Bucky asked. Ty nodded, “Since Y/N was like 13 and it wasn’t fun to use her as a doll to play dress-up with and stuff. Then she hit like 16 and it was all a fucking nightmare from there.”

Jake handed him a glass jar of Moonshine from the shelf in the garage, “Like, she got pretty and Ashley lost her goddamn mind.” Bucky took a sip of what he’d been handed and tried not to cough, “Jesus,” he panted, “Is that fucking jet fuel?”

“Moonshine,” Jake said, taking the jar Bucky handed back and taking a swallow himself before passing it to Ty. 

“So Y/N got pretty and what, Ashley got jealous?” Bucky asked. Jake shrugged, “I mean. She was jealous pretty much her whole like. But like she turned 16 and got a little less awkward and then she was the competition you know?” Ty nodded, “Like Dad and Jake had to beat boys off of her with a stick. She didn’t really want that much attention. She just wanted to do weird kid things and hang out with her weird ass friends. But Ash brought home this guy from school and it all sorta went… really bad.”

Bucky flinched and Ty handed him the Jar again. “Like the guy. Aaron straight tried to hit on her and when she told him “no” he took that as “try harder”. The cops were called and Dad almost went to jail when he caught the guy trying to get her pants off,” he said.

“It wasn’t okay between them before and after Ash’s fuck buddy got slapped with a sexual assault charge and put on a registry, it definitely wasn’t right,” Jake said rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Y/N started taking jobs as a camp counselor and shit in the summer to avoid the drama and for a little while she didn’t really spend much time at home if she could avoid it,” Jake continued with a sigh. “But then the boys started coming along and Ash wasn’t getting as much attention so she started fucking off to parts unknown and here we are.”

Bucky took another swallow and nodded, “This Aaron got a last name?” he asked.

Ty and Jake exchanged looks and threw an arm around either of his shoulders laughing, “You can stay,” they told him, steering him back towards the house before the women inside had time to wonder where they’d gone.

________________

Christmas morning dawned early. Really early and Bucky groaned as a knee hit his Kidney when three excited kids barreled into your room yelling about presents and cinnamon rolls. You groan and shoo them out, telling them you’ll be down and asking if Grandma made coffee. You flop back on the bed and Bucky pins you there gently. It’s a small bed. A twin-sized mattress in your childhood bedroom. A tight fit, but Bucky didn’t mind.

He liked having you half on top of him, tangled around him like a needy vine. It worked better to put him to sleep than a weighted blanket. “Morning,” he murmurs, kissing you sleepily. 

“Morning,” you answer. You can feel his morning erection against your thigh and you hate that you can’t exactly invite him to do something with it with your whole family downstairs. Bucky grinds against you slowly, smirking as he teases you. “Not fair,” you pout.

He kisses you again and nips your lip, “We’ll be in New York in a couple days,” he said, metal fingers trailing over the nipples he can see pushing against your t-shirt. You shudder in need and he smiles to himself. He likes it when you’re a little frustrated. It brings out all your kinks. 

“Bucky,” you protest weakly as he continues to tease you, fingers still toying with your nipples, kneading your breasts, making you ache for him to take you right there on the tiny little bed. You moan softly and his lips crash into yours, “Good girl,” he praises, “You’re so pretty when you’re thinking about me fucking you.” 

His voice is a growl against your ear. Pitched just for you. You shiver and whimper softly, “Bucky,” you whine, frustrated enough that it hurts. Tears are about to start falling and you could beg for him to fuck you. 

Bucky kisses your forehead and climbs off of you, “Two days,” he reminds, “Two more days. Then I’ll see if I can make you forget how to speak English.” 

You groan and he chuckles, wrapping himself in a robe as he heads downstairs. He figures he may not be able to keep you from combusting if he touches your thigh but at least he can feed you a pastry and get some coffee in you. Keep you from being able to retaliate. 

________

Christmas Morning was fun. Even if Bucky didn’t celebrate Christmas. Watching kids tear through wrapping paper and wiggle around, excited and giggling. He liked seeing you snuggle them when they climbed into your lap. 

He really liked it. It was sweet. You were sweet and it would be nice, he decided. Doing Christmas morning with his own small pack of hellions. It made his cheeks color slightly. He liked that thought a lot more than he should. 

About as much as he liked you leaning against his side, stealing bites of his cinnamon roll, your own long since forgotten on a kitchen counter. 

By mid-morning, the kids had all fallen back asleep in a flurry of paper and sugar crash. It left the adults time to talk. And Penny some time to needle you about getting married. “Mama,” you tell her, “Stop. Or we’re just gonna live in sin and adopt like… all the animals.” 

Penny snorted, “Baby, if you don’t wanna get married, that’s fine but just know. I want more grandkids.” Bucky feels his cheeks color and Jack shoots him a look, snickering. 

“Mama,” you sigh, “You have another daughter with a perfectly functional uterus, why is that my job?”

“You’re the least likely to drown them in a bathtub,” Ty answered, earning a smack on the arm from both his wife and his mother.

Bucky couldn’t help it. He snorted.

______________

“Bucky,” you giggle, “Please don’t tell me my mom managed to infect you with her baby fever.”

Bucky blushed, pausing halfway through pulling on his flannels, “No,” he said blushing, “I’m just saying… I like the name Emma.” You kiss him softly, carding your fingers through his hair, “Duly noted.”

He smiles up at you and knead your hips in his hands hungrily, “You do have good birthing hips,” he teases, nuzzling into your belly. 

“And you’re going to wind up with a breeding kink if you don’t stop it,” you say, a little breathless. 

He smacks your backside affectionately, “And what are you gonna do about it?” he challenges, squeezing the swell of your backside.

You can’t seem to make anything come out but a soft whimper as your clit throbs. 

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled, “Now be a good girl and come cuddle.”


	10. Chapter 10

Bucky traced the inside of your thigh absently as he scrolled through his phone. He knew what he was doing to you. Exactly what he was doing to you. He also knew you were trying very hard not to react. 

He could feel the tension in your body as you strained not to squirm and encourage him. He was suddenly really glad your mom had needed help getting returns made. It gave him a chance to press buttons. 

“Bucky?” you ask, biting back a needy whine. “Yeah, Darlin’?” he answered. “Can you- I mean,” you do whine then, swallowing hard. He smirked and stroked a little higher. It was fun, watching you squirm, “What is it, Sugar?” he coaxes softly. “I need you to stop. Or fuck me,” you manage after a minute. “And if I don’t do either?” he asks, chuckling.

“Then you’re going to have to drive so I can come before I explode,” you say blushing. He tuts softly and kisses your cheek, “Be a good girl,” he murmurs, “We’ll be home tomorrow.” 

“I need you,” you pant, “fuck. This isn’t fair… how come this doesn’t bother you?”

Bucky smiles and takes your hand tenderly, “Trust me, sweetheart, my dick is the hardest thing on Earth right now,” he assured you. “I just… I really like watching you squirm. I can’t wait to get you home and fuck you until we’re both so sore we can’t walk. I daydream about all the sounds you’re gonna make for me. How good you’re gonna be for me. How red your ass is gonna get. You’re my addiction, baby. It’s killin’ me but… fuck is it gonna feel good when I get to come inside you again.”

You’re cheeks color and you look up at him, smiling a little, “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

The former Assassin laughs and kisses the hand he’s holding, “Any time, beautiful.”

______________

Your house is quiet when you half drag him through the front door and drop the bags at the bottom of the stairs. Your hands are already unbuttoning his shirt and he doesn’t even try to stop you. His hands are unbuttoning your pants and he’s just as intent on getting you upstairs. 

He carries you half-naked and giggling up the steps. He has you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and he’s smirking. It’s been killing him for days and now he’s going to indulge every urge he’d had to suppress. He’s going to fuck you into a sated, lazy, princess. “You’re such a good girl,” he growls, smacking you on the ass before he throws you gently onto the bed.

He loves that “Good girl” is a magic word. You look up at him all wide-eyed and sweet. Smoldering and innocent at the same time. He grins and tears your panties and your shirt off quickly before taking off his pants and pinning you to the bed, lavishing greedy kisses down your body. “So good. So sweet,” he says.

You shiver in need and he smiles, spreading your legs apart firmly but gently. “Oh, baby,” he tuts, “you’re so neglected… you’re poor little cunt. We gotta get you taken care of.” 

“Bucky,” you pant, desperate and breathless. He grins, teasing your folds with his index finger, making you cry out, “So sensitive for me… Do you wanna be a good girl for me, baby?” You swallow hard and nod, “Yes, sir,” you half sob. 

“Then I need you to sit on my face baby… Need to remind you who that pussy belongs to before I let you have my dick.” 

You shudder in want and leet him position you. It makes you ache and he takes his time, starting slowly. Just barely enough to tease you. “Fuck,” you pant, “Please, Bucky. God.” 

Underneath you, he moans and his hands find your hips and ass, eager to have you come for him. He’s vaguely aware that he could drown in this pussy and die happy. He loves this. He loves having you vulnerable. Stuck above him where you can’t getaway. He eats your cunt like it’s his last meal, making you come until he’s sure you can’t take another. “Good girl,” he praises, gentling you a little and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

You’re flushed and trembling, sweat shining on your skin. It looks good on you, he decides. So good he wants you to come a few more times. 

“This is mine,” he says, his voice a deep rumble, “You understand me?” You nod, “Yes,” you whimper. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, slipping inside you with a groan. “God you feel so fucking good,” he says, answering your moan as he fills you. “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” he growls, “Than I’ll fuck you again for good measure.” 

“Promise?” you ask him.

“Promise,” he says, starting to move, “Can’t knock you up if I don’t fuck you.” He smirks and chuckles to himself.

You sink your teeth into his shoulder and his hips slap against you, studdering out of rhythm, “Yes,” he pants, “Christ. Yes.”

He reaches between you to toy with your clit, desperate to get one more orgasm from you before he lets himself come and when it washes over you, he doesn’t even bother to muffle his roar.

____________

You lay in bed, curled around him like a needy vine, sated and sleepy. Bucky watched fondly as you toyed with the fingers of his metal hand, idly tracing the lines of the metal plates. 

If it were anyone else, it would probably feel strange. Or make him insecure. But for you. With you. It just felt normal. 

It always had. 

The first time you’d ever seen him shirtless, he hadn’t immediately thought about the way his arm and shoulder would look to you. All the scar tissue from it being made and remade. Where he’d picked at it due to the pain. He’d been getting ready for bed on of the nights you had first been to see him at the tower.

He’d strolled out of his bathroom after a shower, pajama bottoms and no shirt yet. You’d hesitantly reached up to touch the angry looking pink skin that marked where his innocence had ended and his career as an assassin had begun. For a moment, he’d felt sick. This was the moment you’d realized what he was, he thought. This was the moment you left. You you realized he was a monster.

Cautious little fingers stopped before actually touching him and you stroked his cheek instead. He braced for impact but… It never came.

“Does it hurt?” you’d asked softly, eyes overbright. Shining with empathetic tears. 

Bucky had let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and turned his head to kiss your palm, “No, darlin’,” he answered gently, “not anymore. You won’t hurt me.” You’d nodded and feathered light, sweet kisses along the join.

For anyone else, that would have felt strange. But for you, it had felt… nice. Like you were trying to reach back into his past and retroactively soothe his pain. In a way, you succeeded. 

“Princess?” he asked softly, refocusing on now. It wasn’t about him right now. He’d been rough with you and while you hadn’t asked him to stop, he was still aware that he’d put you in a very vulnerable place, playing with some of your kinks. 

“Yeah?” you answer, looking up at him rosy-cheeked and sleepy-eyed.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, “Did I push too far?”

You shake your head and snuggled closer, “Not in any way I didn’t want you to,” you tell him. 

He strokes the cool metal of his other hand over the swell of your bottom, admiring how red the flesh is. “Are you sure?” he asked, still hesitant.

“Yes,” you answer, positioning him so you could sit on his lap, his prick inside you to keep him warm.

He chuckled and kissed you slowly, “So needy,” he tutted, “needy and spoiled… Guess I’ve got only myself to blame, huh, baby girl? I let you have your way one too many times and now you think I’ll just let you have my cock whenever you want it.”

You smile up at him and sigh when you feel him start to get hard again inside you, “I guess so, Sargeant… A silly mistake really, but don’t I take good care of you?” 

He smiles tenderly and wraps his arms around you. If a little cock warming is what you want, that’s what he’ll give you, he decides. That and some slow, snuggly lovemaking should put you right to sleep. “You’re so good to me, princess,” he answers. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asks teasingly. 

“Is it dirty?” you ask, giggling.

“No, brat,” he snorts, giving the reddened flesh of your ass a soft smack. “You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, kid,” he murmurs, “You want it, it’s yours. I don’t think I could ever tell you no.”

“I thought you were gonna tell me a secret,” you tease, grinning. 

Bucky laughs and smacks your ass again, “Such a brat,” he scolded, without any real heat. The truth was, he loved it. 

The Truth was, he’d already asked your dad for his blessing. It had been the scariest two hours of his life trying to work up the guts to ask this mountain of a man for permission to marry his little girl. He’d had a whole speech planned out and the second he’d cleared his throat, Dan had just looked at him and smiled.

“Son,” he’d said, “Just ask. If I was gonna shoot you I’d have done it already.” 

It had broken the tension nicely. So had the jar of moonshine he’d been passed.

___________

Sam looked over Bucky’s shoulder at his phone, “Bed frames?” Sam asked. 

“Pretty ones,” Steve had commented looking over his other shoulder, “You gettin’ soft on us Buck,” he teased.

“They’re for Y/N,” he said shrugging, blushing slightly, “I - we- We might have broken her bed.” 

Sam and Steve both laughed and smacked him on the back, “Damn,” Sam had said shaking his head, “And you didn’t break a hip?” 

Steve winked at him, “C’mon, we’re both pretty spry for older fellows… Seriously though, how?”

Bucky shrugged, “I could tell you but I think I’d probably never get laid again.”

“Ooo,” Sam said, “So she is kinky. See Steve, I told you. It’s always the quiet ones.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Good Morning, Miss Becca,” you say smiling, helping yourself to a cup of coffee. 

“Hello, dearest!” she said hugging you hard, “Oh, I missed you. I hate it when they send me different Companions. Such a hassle to break them in.”

You kiss her cheek and return the hug, “I’m sorry. Luckily, I don’t have a trip home planned for a while. I’ve got my dissertation to finish.” 

She hustled you out of the kitchen and onto the sofa, “Tell me everything!” she said, settling in for a chat. You toe your shoes off and pull your feet up underneath you. “It was wonderful,” you tell her, “Bucky was a perfect gentleman... I have pictures.”

She clapped her hands and held one out, eager to see them. “Oh my goodness,” she giggled. “He’ll be such a good father,” she said gushing over pictures of him playing legos with the boys. 

You patiently explain who everyone is and she gushes about how much you look like your mom. About how tall your dad is. About how handsome your nephews are. 

If she notices the mark Bucky had sucked into your neck that morning in the shower, she doesn’t say. The only thing she does mention is your slight limp. You’re thankful she can’t see you blushing when she mentions it and you try to explain it away as having worked out too hard. 

__________

“Hey Nat,” Bucky asked, leaning on the counter where the redhead was chopping vegetables. “Yeah?” she answered. “Do you know anything about jewelry?” he asked

“Why?” she returned, quirking an eyebrow.

“I need help buying an engagement ring,” he said blushing.

“This isn’t for a shotgun wedding is it?” she teased. “No,” he snorted, “At least I don’t think so... I just. I want to have something. Just for when the time is right. I mean. I already asked her dad.”

The Spy smirked, “Doing it the old fashioned way, how cute... Why don’t you ask Steve?”

“Steven Rogers? The Steve you’re dating? That one?” Bucky asked slightly incredulous. 

Natasha laughed, “Fair point,” she said, “The poor guy can’t deal with salespeople.” She thinks for a second, “We can go today after lunch,” she said, “It’s almost time for Jewelry stores to do their inventory... They’ll be marking stuff down left and right. At the very least, you can look and see if there’s anything that feels right.”

Bucky nodded and kissed her cheek, “Thanks Nat,” he said fondly, “I owe you.” 

She grins, “I think Y/N is the one that owes me,” she said, “Oh hey! Tell her her dissertation is fucking great. She’s reaching freak out mode 5.”

Bucky nodded, “I didn’t even know,” he said. 

She shrugged, “We were talking last night while you and Steve were playing darts,” she said. “I asked her how it was going and I thought she was gonna cry... Alcohol aside, I think the stress is getting to her.”

He sighed and nodded, “I’ll talk to her,” he said. “I know she’s stressed about finding a job.”

Nat frowned, “Why? She’s nationally recognized. She’s done some really cool shit... SHEILD would take her in a heartbeat. All she has to do is put in a resume.” He smiled a little, “I’ll put a bug in her ear and see if I can’t get her to throw something together for me to drop on Fury’s desk.”

She nodded, “At least you could just commute to the same building,” she said, “How's the house hunt going?” 

Bucky smiled, “A lot easier than the ring search... I think I found the perfect house. Its a Victorian farmhouse. Lots of space to add on if we need it. I’m taking her to go see it this weekend.”

Natasha smiled, “Have you named your kids yet?” she teased.

“I like the names Emma and Thomas,” he said primly, stealing a handful of cucumbers off her cutting board.

_______________

Bucky fidgeted nervously behind you as you wandered through the house he’d found. You explored the house with a thoughtful look on your face, “It’s really beautiful,” you murmur, “But can we afford it?”

He smiles and pulls you against his chest, rocking you gently, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, babygirl,” he says kissing your nose, “It’s gonna be fine.” You tilt your head curiously and he smiles, “I had a bank account that never got closed... So I’ve got money,” he said, “All I need to know is how you feel about it, Princess.” 

“I love it,” you say smiling, “It’s perfect.” 

He kisses you softly and cradles your face in his hands. You’re so soft. He wants you to have a safe place. He wants you to be happy. To feel wanted. “Then it’s yours, kid,” he says, “I’ll call the realtor first thing in the morning.” 

“Promise?” you ask, snuggling into him.

“I promise,” he said, “This’ll be our house before you know it.” 

_____________

Steve and Bucky sat on the floor in the kitchen sipping beer and listening to you and Sam singing to the radio as you painted the front room. 

The house was coming together slowly, walls painted, wood floors exposed as the ugly carpet was torn out, new hardware on cabinets and Bucky patiently sneaking in little things here or there that he knew you adored but thought cost too much money for right now. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered wanting exactly this. A home. A girl to share it with. Someone he could spoil. And he loved spoiling you. You deserved to be spoiled, he decided. Sweet and hardworking. Endlessly kind. Patient with him even when he woke you up in the middle of the night with his nightmares. It felt right every time your eyes lit up. Even when all he did was bring you a little bag of the sour candy you liked. Or showed you pictures of puppies he saw online. 

“It’s a nice house, Buck,” Steve said looking around. Bucky nodded, smiling a little, “I thought so.” 

Steve smiles a little, “So,” he asked, “When are the retirement papers going to cross Fury’s desk?” 

Bucky felt his cheeks color, “You heard that huh?”

“Yeah,” he said nodding, kicking Bucky’s foot gently, “It’s okay, Bucky.” The former assassin gave him a look, “It is,” Steve insisted, “Yeah. You’re my best friend but, if you want to be a family man I’m not gonna stop you. It’s not like you’re abandoning me. She’s a good girl.”

Bucky looked towards you smiling a little, “Yeah she is. But, you’ve got a little while til I retire. Probably won’t hang it up until babies start coming... I don’t like the idea of leaving her to raise the kids by herself for weeks or months at a time.”

Steve nodded, “That makes sense. Especially your kids. They’re gonna be a handful.”

“Hey!” Bucky protested. 

You smile at them from the doorway, “I agree with Steve,” you tease, crossing the floor to sit on his lap instead of on the floor. 

“Traitor,” Bucky groused, without and real heat, “I’m telling Becky.”

“Telling Becky what? That you’re a trouble maker?” you challenged, “Baby, she knows.” You steal a kiss and smile. “It’s okay though,” you tell him, “I grew up with Ty. And Jack.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Bucky? What are you doing?” you sound a little panicked. Confused. It makes his heart flutter and he takes a deep breath, willing his hands not to shake. 

It had been a whirlwind of a week. Moving and your dissertation and all the things. Today, today was just for the two of you. 

The early Spring weather was wet and windy but just slightly warmer. You were wearing a mint green dress and said “Hell with it” your long dark hair was down, drifting on the breeze. You looked beautiful and walking next to you he felt normal. No one was staring at him but men’s head’s turned when you passed by, oblivious to him but drawn to stare at you like moths to a flame.

Bucky takes your hands gently. The grass is wet and it’s soaking through his jeans. He takes a deep breath and kisses your palms. Time has slowed to a crawl. He exhales slowly and smiles to himself. He can understand now why men always got down on one knee to do this. He wasn’t sure his legs could hold him. It felt like he could be sick. 

“Y/N,” he said softly, struggling for words, “Since the second you walked into Becky’s townhouse and she forced us together, you’ve been the best thing that ever happened to me.” He kissed your hands again and looked up at you slowly. “You’re everything I ever wanted,” he said softly, “For 70 years I thought I’d never get the chance. All there was, was fighting and killing and trying to make it another day. Then you hit my life like a bomb and I remembered what if felt like to just... live. To have a girl waiting for me. To see a life where I’m not just looking for another war to fight.” 

He reaches up and brushes tears off your cheeks, smiling softly, “You’re my mission, baby. You’re everything I ever wanted. Will you marry me?”

He feels like his heart is in his mouth. It’s hard to breathe. He can count the heartbeats by the pulse in his ears. 

1...

2..

3.

He opens his mouth to say something. To try and soothe you or save face he isn’t sure. You’re crying and he doesn’t like it that he can’t figure out why. If this is happy crying or not. 

Before he can formulate a response, your arms are around his neck and your lips are crashing into his, saying everything you can’t find the words for. He catches you gently and tangles his fingers in your hair. He can taste salt and the sweetness of your coffee. It makes him smile and he pulls away gently, “Is that a yes?” he teases gently, wiping tears away and brushing hair out of your eyes tenderly. You nod and hide your face in his neck, trying to get your emotions in check. Bucky lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and pulls you onto his knee, fumbling to pull a ring out of his pocket. 

He slides it gently onto your finger and kisses your cheek, “Nat helped me with it,” he admitted, “And your mom... I- if you don’t like it we can pick something else, I-” You kiss him quiet and rest your forehead against his, “Hush,” you tell him. “It’s perfect,” you murmur, “I love it.” 

Bucky cuddles you gently and sighs, “You’re such a good girl,” he says softly. He feels 10 feet tall. You said yes. You said yes AND you like the ring.

“Take me home?” you ask softly. He smiles, “Home,” he repeats. He likes the sound of that. 

You brush the stubble of his jaw with your thumb and smile, teasing him, “Play your cards right and I’ll let you get me pregnant.” 

He can hear the tease in your voice. He knows you’re on birth control so even if he fucks you raw, it’s unlikely. But his prick throbs uncomfortable and it isn’t the cold that makes him shiver. “That’s not nice,” he pouts, “Playing with a fella’s baby fever like that.” 

You smile and kiss his jaw, “But you’re so cute when you’re getting hot thinking about how much you want to have a baby.” 

He chuckles, “You don’t want a baby?”

“Oh no,” you tell him, “I’m just better at tuning out my biological clock... at least. At least until I start thinking about how soft you’ll be with that baby.” You sigh, “Then I want to say fuck it, throw my birth control in the trash and beg you to fuck me until we get pregnant.” 

Bucky groaned softly, “Princess,” he pouts, “why can’t we say fuck it?”

“Because. I don’t have my doctorate yet,” you answer simply, “Yes, I know. Women do kids and school all the time. But, I don’t want to.”

He sighed and kissed your shoulder, “Fine,” he teased, “But only because my ma would have been thrilled if I married a doctor.” 

You giggle and he helps you to your feet before standing himself and kissing you softly. “I love you, Bucky,” you tell him. 

He grins, “I love you too, Mrs. Barnes.”


	13. Chapter 13

The fire crackled in the hearth and Bucky stretched lazily, half awake. You had really picked a nice couch. Plush and soft. Good for napping. Or, the activities that he’d just been doing on the sofa with you.

He looked down and smiled a little, adjusting the blanket gently to cover your bottom where it had bunched up and was leaving you exposed. He didn’t want you getting chilled.

His belly was comfortably full of pasta, he’d had a few glasses of wine, and he had the love of his life asleep on his chest. It was a nice night. A quiet celebration to mark the last of your doctorate work getting done. He knew you were worn out when you’d walked through the door.

It had radiated off of you. You looked exhausted and stressed. He always hated that. He looked up from the pasta sauce he was stirring and held out his arms, “Hey, Princess,” he said smiling, “Why don’t I run you a hot bath before dinner, huh?” You make a soft miserable sound. You’re cold and wet and it feels like the sides of your stomach are stuck together. You’d been too anxious to eat more than a couple bites of the chocolate chip pancakes Bucky had tried to get you to eat that morning. And what you had eaten you’d thrown up just from the nerves.

“I just wanna go to sleep,” you murmur, “I don’t even think I can eat.” You walk into his arms and thud your head gently against his chest. 

He frowns and strokes your back tenderly, “What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”

You shake your head and sigh, “Nothing,” you murmur, “I’m just tired.” 

“At least go put on some dry clothes,” he says softly, “Get comfortable. Let yourself relax a little. Let your body realize you’re not running on adrenaline anymore.”

You nod and take a deep breath, “Okay,” you whisper.

“Good girl,” he praises gently, nudging you towards the stairs, “One step at a time.” He watches you go and shakes his head. He’s a little glad you turned down working for SHEILD. Some types of stress you could handle really well. A frenetic work pace. Lots of things at once, fine. All fine. But prolonged stress, being stressed out for days on end while you unsnarled tangles and had no apparent end to the worrying? Nope. You were built for sprints, not Marathons. SHEILD was constant stress. Constant pressure. He didn’t doubt that you could adjust but he’d prefer you not have to. The effects on your body aside, he wondered what it would do to your heart. 

Bucky listens with half an ear and nods to himself when he hears the shower start, adjusting the temperature of the stove and starting the water for pasta. He knew you’d sworn off carbs for right now, but he also knew that you were miserable. He figured breaking the diet that he didn’t even think was necessary wouldn’t hurt. Not for one day. Not if it meant that you went to sleep with a full belly and he didn’t find you awake at 3am possessed by some manic cleaning demon after an anxiety-induced nightmare vaulted you out of bed. Fully awake and already in a panic. He hated that too. How easily all the shit your older sister had said and done to you instilled that you were never going to be enough. How all the things stupid boys, who didn’t understand you, had perpetually made you question if it was a trap if anyone asked about things you were interested in. It was only now that he lived with you that he really noticed it. 

For a moment he’d thought you had a double life or something. But it wasn’t that. It was a massive, sprawling, fantasy epic you had spent the better part of 15 years writing and refining. There were multiple languages, cultures. All this detail and illustration… It had made his head spin when he’d found the stacks of journals and loose-leaf papers in binders. You’d very cautiously, shyly explained that it was how you’d put in to practice some of the theoretical things you read about when you were first wrestling with it. Without any real-world experience to really draw on. Or access. You’d just crafted one to test things out on. “Like Tolkein but like… Less racist and somehow more pretentious,” you’d told him. You looked like you were waiting for him to laugh at you. He couldn’t really do anything but stare. At least not for a moment. 

“Can I read it?” he asked. 

“No,” you answered hesitantly, hugging the binder you’re holding to your chest, like he might take it from you. Like someone probably had before. 

He hadn’t pressed. He’d simply nodded and very carefully added the journals and binders to the shelf next to your desk. Where you could get to them if you wanted them. 

Your quiet footfalls on the wood floors make him lookup. You’ve stolen one of his t-shirts and found a clean pair of pajama bottoms. Your hair is still dry, but your skin is pink. The water must have been hot. A lot hotter than Bucky liked it.You look better. Kinda. At least less frazzled. 

When your arms wrap around his waist and your cheek rests against his back he smiles, “Baby, I got a fire going before you got home,” he coaxed, “Why don’t you go cuddle up with a blanket… I’ll bring you some dinner and a glass of wine.”

“I still feel nauseous,” you tell him groggily.

He frowns, “At least try, Princess. You need to eat. You might even feel better if we get a little something in your stomach.”

He watches you go as you shuffle through the doorway and frowns. You really do need rest. He can practically see the anxiety and the depression it leaves behind gnawing at you. He knows this is a temporary state. A rudderlessness left behind after your life’s work this far getting handed over. But. He’d much rather drown you in pasta and cuddles until you fall asleep than just let you fall asleep face down on the bed like you are. 

It doesn’t take long to have a couple bowls and a couple glasses of wine put together on a tray. The TV is off but you have the record played on and playing softly. He smiles a little, you’re wrapped up in the fluffy throw off the couch hugging the stuffed dog he bought you as a joke when you asked for a puppy. “Here, Sweetheart,” he said handing you a bowl and a glass. When you take them your hands a trembling just a little and it reaffirms his assessment that you need food in your belly. 

You take them and take a deep breath. “Thank you,” you murmur. Bucky nods and sinks into the couch gently, “I made brownies too,” he said, proud of himself.

You smile up at him and take a sip of wine, “You’re getting pretty domestic,” you tease, “Don’t worry I won’t tell Sam.” Bucky grinned, “Well, I gotta get some skills. You know. Since you’re gonna be a Professor. And a Consultant for the UN… Once I retire I’m practically gonna be a trophy husband. I gotta keep you interested in me somehow.”

You laugh softly, “Well I appreciate the efforts. Even if you are gonna make me fat.” Bucky rolled his eyes, “Baby, you’re perfectly healthy. Fuck that magazine. You’re healthy. You work out more than I do. You can eat whatever you want.” You sigh, “I know. It’s still not nice to read while I’m trying to get groceries.”

Bucky nodded, “I know, Sugar.” He kisses you gently and smiles a little, “But let’s not worry about those assholes now, huh? Just relax and let me take care of you. You worked hard. You deserve a treat.” You nod and take another sip of wine, “Okay,” you sigh, “This actually looks really good… Food Network?”

“Facebook,” he said grinning. 

____________ 

He managed to coax you into most of the pasta and a brownie between two glasses of wine. You unwound slowly and Bucky felt better. He hated it when you had yourself worked up. 

It also hadn’t taken long for him to work you back up again in a completely different way. He applied considerable efforts into getting you sleepy and relaxed. He figured a slow, snuggly round of lovemaking would probably be just the thing. When he had you naked and squirming under his hands, he pinned you gently to the couch and lavished kisses down your body, nuzzling your stomach affectionately. There wasn’t much talking but there didn’t need to be. He knew what you liked. You knew that in the back of his mind, he was thinking about how pretty you’d look growing his baby. 

“I love you,” you’d panted, your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. 

“Who doesn’t?” he teased, kissing you hungrily.

After he’d spent inside you and you were pleasantly tired instead of mind-numbingly exhausted, he’d held you. You’d snuggled into his arms and hid your face in his neck. 

It hadn’t taken long for you to fall asleep. The comfort of a full stomach, a gentle orgasm, and a warm body to cuddle paired with the sweetness of Bucky humming along with the record he’d put on had you fast asleep in a few minutes. 

Bucky felt like he was in heaven, drowsing there in a hazy, twilight state. It was a level of comfort he never thought was possible. He never knew it was possible to be this content. This blissed out. 

He adjusted the blanket over you gently and stroked your hair. This was home and he couldn’t wait to be a trophy husband.


	14. Chapter 14

There was a houseful of people inside. Kids and siblings, and Avengers and friends. It felt like everyone the two of you had ever met. It was fun. A housewarming party and a celebration of your work getting completed and your doctorate confirmed. You were listening with half an ear to the wild wedding plans that your mother and Rebecca were trying to talk you into.

The two of them got on like a house on fire from the word go. Kindred spirits, you decided. Bossy and meddling but endlessly loving. It was sweet. Even if they were tap dancing on your last nerve. You caught Jack’s eye and jerked your head towards the garage, telling him to meet you there. The dark-haired man nods, smirking. 

He doesn’t know Rebecca that well, but he does know Mama Penny. And he remembers what she’d been like when he’d been planning his wedding with his now ex-wife. He nudges Ty to send him to go grab Bucky, sensing that whatever is about to happen he should probably hear and the Three of them lope easily over the grass, headed towards the Garage.

“Bucky,” you tell him, “I cannot deal with wedding planning for a whole year. I can’t. They’re both driving me up the wall.” 

Bucky smiles a little and cards his fingers through your windblown hair, “So what are you gonna do about it, Doll?” he asked. 

“We’re gonna get married today,” you tell him, “We already have the stupid papers since you wanted to make sure I’d be taken care of if anything ever happened to you. Everyone’s already here, and to make it look nice Ty got ordained online years ago as a joke.”

The men in the garage all exchange glances and Bucky squeezes your hands, “Are you sure about this, Y/N? I can try and get Becky to back off a little.” 

“James Buchannan Barnes,” you scold,”Are you telling me you’re getting cold feet?”

“No- I just. I don’t want you to do anything before you’re ready,” he says, blushing.

““Bucky. We have a house. And we’re going to get a puppy. This is just paperwork to make it all look nice,” you tell him, “We may as well already be married.”

“If you don’t marry her,” Jack broke in, “We’ll be obligated to at least attempt to beat you up. You know. Since it’d make her sad if you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Ty added, “I mean… look at that face. Then try and imagine explaining to the kids why she’s sad.”

Bucky snorted and kissed your forehead, “You’re really sure about this?”

“I would have married you the day you asked. At the courthouse… And if I have to do the whole big white wedding thing I’ll lose my shit,” you tell him. “They’re talking about a horse and carriage Bucky… Please don’t put me through that.”

Big pleading puppy dog eyes look up at him and he winces and nods, Whatever Mama Penny and Becky managed to plan was going to turn into a media circus. Something neither of you wanted. “Alright, Sweetheart,” he soothes, “today’s the day. I’ll get word out quietly… Try and keep Mama and Becky from finding out.”

“We’ll tell dad,” Jack said, “he’ll run interference for us.”

“Y/N,” Jack said, “Go find a cute dress… Throw Mama that bone at least. One of you in jeans is enough… Ty and I will tell dad and ride herd on guests to get them gathered up.”

____________________

Bucky is standing in front of a small crowd. His arm around your waist. You’re thanking everyone for coming and he’s trying not to get distracted by what’s about to happen. 

You’re really about to be his. Right now. The sun is brighter and everything sounds like it’s from underwater. He’s trying to pay attention. You always speak so beautifully. Words flow like water down a stream. But the little tendrils of hair falling out of your hasty bun are distracting. 

You say something about “Just one last thing before we feed you all.” And he hears your mom gasp over the general murmurs, “You’re pregnant!” she yelped.

You snort, “No, that’s not it.” 

“Aww,” she said disappointed. You restrain an eyeroll with effort and he grins, kissing your head.

“Ty,” you continue, “Has graciously agreed to officiate so that we could do the wedding today. While everyone is here… So, if you’ll all bear with us a moment, we’d like to do that now.”

There are cheers and Your dad and Steve grab hold of your mother and Rebecca respectively to keep them from storming up to the makeshift dancing platform to give you both what for.

Bucky can hardly focus on what was being said. He repeated words he barely registered, too focused on you. The warm, sweet glow of adoration in your eyes as you looked up at him. Your lips still stained red with the Cherry wine you’d had a few glasses of since the party started. He wanted a taste. Your voice echoed in his head, quiet and calm. Your small hands in his felt so fragile as he slid a wedding band up to join your engagement ring. 

And then he was kissing you, his lips against yours tasting the sweet cherry wine as you melted against him. “Now can I knock you up?” he asked teasing, his voice pitched for your hearing.

“Dude,” Ty groaned, “Ew. I’m still right here.”

That makes you giggle and Bucky watches fondly as you stand on your toes to kiss Ty’s cheek.

_____________

“You little shit!” Penny started, hugging you to her hard, “You could have told me.”

“I would have if I could have gotten a word in edgewise,” you say mildly. “But you and Rebecca had some extravagant Fairy tale all but planned and… to be honest that’s a lot more press, protestors, and fuss than we ever wanted. We’d always planned to just do it in the yard and have a nice dinner after; we just moved the time table up.”

Rebecca scowled at her older brother, “You’re lucky I like you,” she pouted at him. He smiled and kissed her head, “I know Becky.”

Bucky reclaimed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you gently against his chest, unwilling to bet you go for too long. 

Still afraid this was all a dream and they’d pull him out of Cryo in a moment. He had nightmares about that sometimes. That he’d not get to help you raise kids and that all the dates, and secrets, and memories were just his mind seeking solace against the darkness. But when you looked up at him, still doe-eyed and soft, he knew it wasn’t true. No girl in his dreams ever looked at him like that.

You were here. You were his. His wife. His love. It was all he ever wanted.

____________

It wasn’t much of a wedding night, with a house full of guests. There was no raucous debauchery in your bedroom. Only shy sweet kisses and whispered promises of more after everyone went home tomorrow. 

Quiet torment of heated touches and your soft needy whimpers for more. More that under different circumstances, Bucky would happily give you, but he wants you ravenous for him tomorrow. He wants you eager and insatiable. He wants you to be begging for him. It makes him feel good. 

He edges you slowly, teasing your buttons without actually pressing. Enjoying the pebbled flesh under his hands and the soft noises of frustration and avarice. When your legs part for him he smiles, palming your cunt lovingly, “Getting a little hot for me?” he teases. You moan quietly in response and he kisses you quiet, “Shh,” he scolds, “someone will hear.”

“We’re married,” you pout, “And we own the house.”

He chuckles, “I know… but baby girl, I don’t want to fuck you quietly,” he explains. “I want us to have the run of the house. Hot tub, back rubs, champagne, the works,” he hums, “If I’m gonna make you a mommy, I wanna do it right.” You roll your eyes and he smiles. “I’m gonna keep you naked and full of my seed for days,” he says, teasing your clit gently. Hardly touching you. 

You can’t help it. You whimper. That sounds like heaven. Just you and Bucky and nothing to do but make love and be spoiled. “Promise?” you asked breathless.

“I promise, Mrs. Barnes,” he said solemnly, “I’m gonna get in all the baby-making practice you can take… Then maybe a little bit more for good measure.”


	15. Chapter 15

So,” Steve said grinning, “How is it being a married man?” Bucky toyed with the pint glass in his hand and smiled, looking towards you. 

You were sitting with Natasha and Carol, the three of you gossiping about the men in your lives. You looked beautiful, even with your hair a mess and your shirt rumpled after a long day.

“It’s pretty great,” he said, stretching lazily. He was thankful really, that you’d done the wedding the way you had. A three-week honeymoon, away from it all. White sand beaches and sipping drinks in the sun. It had done wonders for the both of you, geven you some much needed time to just unwind. Be together before the press had realized you’d even gotten married.

“Becky is still over the moon I take it?” Steve chuckled. Bucky nodded, “She’s thrilled,” he snorted, “Got herself a new partner in crime. Even if she doesn’t believe Y/N wasn’t pregnant and is literally counting days.”

Steve rolled his eyes but punched his arm, “Is there a kid in the cards soon?” he asked, teasing.

Bucky felt his cheek color and Steve could see him soften. Bucky was such a marshmallow. Steve was glad that he had you. Someone he could be soft for. Someone he could be himself around, despite his reputation. 

“Hopefully,” he admitted. It hadn’t taken long for him to convince you it was time to try. He’d enjoyed the practice, but he hadn’t enjoyed how disappointed you’d been the morning you woke up with cramps right on schedule. After that, he’d decided that you weren’t going to try, you were just going to stop preventing it. He’d not realized how much you wanted him to be happy. Not until you’d burst into tears and apologized.

“For real?” Steve asked, “That’s great!” Bucky nodded, “I mean, we’re not trying… we’re just not. Not preventing it. I don’t want to put that much pressure on her about it.” The Brunette felt his cheeks color, “She’s got enough heat on her already. She’s still getting hate mail at the university.”

“Hatemail?” Steve frowned.

Bucky sighed, “Yeah. From people that still think I’m a traitor… They. Well. They haven’t outright threatened her. Yet but… some of the things get brutal.”

Steve nodded, “What does she say about it?”

“Not much,” Bucky chuckled, “I only see them when someone said something particularly asinine. Or misspelled… Usually, she just corrects their grammar and sends them back. Encourages them to look for some tutoring.”

The Captain laughed, “She does not,” he said incredulously. Bucky snorted, ‘She feels it’s important not to let idiots get away with being idiots.”

Steve nodded, “Still, I’ll see if we can’t find out who’s doing it and get them to stop. I really don’t want to have to send my nieces and nephews around with a security detail.”

“Pretty sure that Y/N and I could handle it,” Bucky said, smiling a little. Steve rolled his eyes, “I know you could. That isn’t the point. You’re family and so she’s my responsibility too.”

Bucky nodded, “Thanks, Steve,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

A scream and a scuffle put Bucky on his feet ready to fight. He whipped around, Sam had you struggling and swearing over his shoulder and was striding towards the bar, “Yo!” he yelled, “The professor here is talking shit. She be sayin’ that you’re actually funnier than me.”

He sets you upright on the floor and Bucky relaxes again, exhaling slowly.

You scowl at Sam and look up at him, “You pick me up like that again and I’ll drop you,” you tell him.

Bucky snorted and Samrocked back on his heels, “Oh it’s like that, huh?” he said. “It’s like that,” you tell him.

“Well come on then!” he challenged, “You think you feelin’ froggy then leap.” You quirk an eyebrow. Standing there in a skirt and some cute heels, you don’t look like a threat but then, Bucky knows that’s what you’re counting on.

Sam is on his back groaning and laughing breathlessly, “What the fuck,” he groaned, letting you offer him a hand off the floor. 

You shrug, “Dad was a Marine. Ty was in the army. Jake’s a cop… They figured if I was gonna be weird I may as well learn how to kick some body’s ass if I needed to.”

Steve whistled softly, “In heels even… You sure you don’t want a job?” Bucky looped an arm around your waist and pulled you close possessively. “No thank you,” you say kissing his jaw soothingly. “I’m perfectly happy being a fussy academic.”

_________

That night as Bucky handed you water and some tylenol after he put you to bed, he smiled. “What?” you ask him groggily. 

“I just realized for the millionth time how lucky I am,” he murmured, stroking your hair. 

“Even if I’m plastered right now?” you say taking the water and Tylenol. 

“Yup,” he said fondly. “You’re everything I ever wanted, Princess. The best wife, and someday you’ll make a really great mom.” He kisses you gently, savoring the bitter tint of liquor on your lips. You smile up at him and hold your arms out to be held, making him chuckle. You’re a lovey drunk. You don’t cry or yell or get mean. You just want him to cuddle you and tell you you’re pretty. 

He doesn’t mind. You believe him when he tells you that, but only when you’re drunk. Alcohol exacerbates your innocence, not your cynicism. 

“Let me get some sweats on,” he chuckles, kissing your head.

You pout prettily, “Why do you have to wear clothes at all?”

“Because you’re the only one that gets to see me naked now, dollface,” he says grinning. He got undressed slowly, enjoying the warmth in your gaze. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” you gush, your voice soft in awe. 

Bucky feels himself blush but he preens a little. He crawls across the bed to you and claims your lips in another soft kiss. “Men aren’t pretty,” he snorts.

“You’re pretty.” you insist, tackling him into the mattress. Bucky laughs and lets you. He could easily regain control if he wanted to. You’re drunk and he’s a lot stronger than you, but, as you slide him inside you, he lets you. “Oh, Princess,” he groans, “You gonna keep me warm?”

You nod, kissing down his chest. Taking the time to just admire the man in your bed. Bucky relaxes into your touch, enjoying the attention. Enjoying the feeling of getting hard inside you. “I love you so much,” you tell him, cupping his cheek. 

“I love you too,” he said, trailing metal fingers down your belly slowly, making you shiver. He sighs and fights the impulse to buck his hips. He wants to fuck you. 

But this is about you. This is your show. You’re drunk and he’s not in any hurry. He doesn’t particularly like taking advantage of you being in a compromised state to get his way. He loves being dominant. Loves playing with your kinks. But he also knows that right now, you’re enjoying things as they are. 

He kneads your bottom in his hands gently, waiting for you to decide what exactly it is you want. He knows what you want. He’s hard inside you and aching for you, just like you planned. But still when you start to move on him, slowly, he hisses between his teeth. “It’s gonna be a long night, isn’t it, darlin’?” he asks swatting your backside. You giggle, “No… I just like watching you suffer a little,” you tease.

Bucky slaps the swell of your ass again a little harder and you make a soft noise. “Somebody is gonna wind up reading for me if she doesn’t behave,” he warns. You blush and he smiles. That had been fun. A punishment he’d given you for being mean to yourself.

He’d made you sit on his lap. His thick cock pressing into your ass, your legs spread apart to leave you vulnerable. And he’d made you read to him. You got to pick the book, of course. But as you read he toyed idly with your clit. If you stopped reading, he increased the intensity. When you came, he pushed just a little further into your ass… It had been some of the filthiest sex you’d ever had together and he still occasionally invoked it to make you blush when you were being a brat. Or teasing him in public, however quietly. 

Tonight though, that hadn’t made you behave. It had just spurred you on. Bucky had figured that it would. That you didn’t want to behave. That you wanted him to fuck your brains out before you went to sleep it off. And he did. 

Unable to take the teasing anymore, he took over then, realizing that that was what you wanted. That it wasn’t him taking advantage of your current state, because your current state wasn’t that bad off. 

“Harder,” you’d panted when he had you positioned face down and ass up on the bed, smacking your ass with the paddle he favored. It was slower and mostly just loud. He never wanted to actually hurt you. And while he might use his hand to swat your bottom from time to time, to tease you, it was never his choice to give you an actual spanking. He was strong. Really strong. And he could hurt you if he wasn’t careful. And that he didn’t want. He liked your ass to be glowing pleasantly red. He didn’t like your hips misaligned or tissue damaged. 

He tutted softly and brought the padded down hard enough to make you jump and then whimper, “Such a spoiled brat,” he teased, voice warm. “Look at you, begging for me to spank you. That beautiful cunt on display for me. You like being on display for me don’t you, Princess?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you pant, your fingers gripping the blankets, as you desperately try not to squirm.

“Good girl,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss into your lower back as he index finger slides inside you, teasingly, making you shiver. He withdraws it when you push against his hand and slaps your ass with the paddle, making you whimper. 

“So very needy for me,” he rumbles, “Aren’t you beautiful? So desperate to come for me.” He pushes his prick lightly against your entrance and sighs, “You’re so wet for me, Doll. So pretty like this.” You gasp and he kneads your bottom in his hands, lovingly. “Say the magic word, Princess. Tell me what you want, I’ll take care of you.” 

“I want you,” you pant, “I want you to put a baby in me, Sargeant.” Bucky shivers involuntarily and his cock throbs.

You don’t fiddle with his buttons like that often. But when you do, it shoots a 1,000 volts of white, hot, electric lust through his veins. He growls in desire and leans down to rumble in your ear, “You mean it, Princess?” he says. You whimper and pant out a timid little yes. Gasping as he slides into you. 

“You’re gonna be so fucking beautiful with your belly all swollen. Getting bigger every day.” he groans, starting to fuck into you, his hips slapping against your ass. “I’m gonna fill you up with my seed, gonna watch you grow my kid. You want me to knock you up don’t you beautiful? Want me to make you a mommy finally?” 

Your answering cry of bliss as he drives you to orgasm is all he needs to hear. He spills his seed inside you with a cry of his own, unable to hold back anymore. 

When he hears you sniffling, now overstimulated and sore, he’s quick to pull you against his chest and hold you, bringing you back down gently. He didn’t know, not until recently that there was a name for this. That it was what everyone should do after getting a little rough with their partner. He was appalled when you told him that not everyone did. That you’d had lovers just leave you, vulnerable and afraid. 

Bucky was good at aftercare. Cuddles, snacks, bedtime stories. Anything you wanted. Anything that let him be soft with you. Remind you that he loved you. That you weren’t just a body. Tonight, you just wanted cuddles. Cuddles and reassurances. He held you close, his fingers trailing down your belly idly. 

“Bucky?” you ask, your voice hesitant. “What is it, Princess?” he answers, kissing your nose. “You’ll still love me even if-” you stop and he brushes his thumb along your cheek bone. “Even if we can’t have a baby?” he finishes. 

You nod, looking like you might cry. “Shhh,’ he soothes, quickly, “Sweetheart, I’d love you. I loved you from the second you said hello to me, even if I didn’t realize it right away. Don’t cry.” He kisses your nose and your cheeks and your lips softly. “If we can’t make a baby, we’ll adopt… My loving you isn’t… I don’t love you because you can have a baby. I want to have babies with you because I love you… Getting to watch you get adorably round and soft is just a bonus, baby. Okay?” He smothers you with soft ticklish kisses until you giggle and he smiles a little, “You’re my girl. My best girl,” he promises, “We’ve got time, sweetheart.”

You bury your face in his chest and he strokes your back, humming softly. The song he liked to dance with you to in the kitchen. “I love you,” you murmur, kissing his shoulder. “I love you too,” he whispers, tightening his arms around you, knowing that the pressure will lull you to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

Sunlight made the dust motes shine like glitter, drifting lazily on the breeze as you curled up in your favorite chair with a book. It was summer break and with no classes to teach and Bucky away on a mission you found yourself with an abundance of free time. 

You spent time with Rebecca, having her as an overnight guest often. Steve, Sam, Nat and other Avengers dropped by. To eat. To chat. To pick your brain… whatever the reason, you appreciated the company. The house was too big without Bucky rattling around in the other rooms. 

He was always tinkering. Adjusting. Planning. Having a house and a wife had seemed like such an impossible thing for so long that now that he had them, he was ecstatic. Always quick to do whatever little home repairs. Always thrilled to pamper you within an inch of your life.

You supposed, laying aside your book with a stretch that you should probably get up. You haven’t been on a run in a few days. Perhaps it’s the weather. The warm spring air making you feel lazy. Fatigue from the frantic last week of classes. But you feel leaden and heavy. Simple things leave you tired or slightly confounded. Part of it, you acknowledge could be some depression. 

Bucky’s been away for a few weeks now. Almost Three full weeks. You’ve counted. Over and over. You miss him. 

You really did try and get up. But the soft breeze, the comfortable chair, and the snuggly blanket prove especially soporific. You were asleep before you could even grab on to the thought that you needed to start dinner.

_________

Bucky dropped his gear next to the door and sighed. It had been a long mission. Mostly dull. He’d been sniping HYDRA agents which. while satisfying, wasn’t anything close to being at home. 

“Y/N?” he called, “You home?” When there was no answer, he shrugged. You might be out and about. He wandered through the house, basking in the quiet and the smell. Fresh bread and coffee. A lingering smell of your perfume. Laundry detergent. It was so different from any place he ever lived before but it smelled so good. He dreamed about this smell while he was away. About as often as he dreamed about being between your thighs. 

He stopped in the door of the front room, the weight of the mission dropping from his shoulders as he watched you sleep. You were curled in the Bamboo swivel chair, snuggled into the thick cushion, fast asleep. “Oh, Sweetheart,” he murmured softly. He smiled tenderly and toed off his shoes to pad quietly across the floor. He knelt slowly and leaned down, kissing your nose. His hair tickling your cheeks made you stir.

“Bucky?” you say groggily, smiling up at him, “You’re home.”

“My very own sleeping Beauty,” he teases gently, “I’m a lucky man.” Your cheeks color and you struggle to sit up, “I’m sorry… I meant to make sure there was food for you. Like a pie and stuff… Nat or someone was supposed to text me.”

“It’s okay,” he soothes, kissing you again, “Shhh, you were sleeping real good when I came in, baby. You probably needed it… You look like you still need it.”

He cups your cheek softly and frowns, “You feel okay, Princess? You look a little pale.” 

You nod, “Just kinda… groggy,” you tell him, “The last couple weeks of the semester were stressful.” He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone and smiles, “Then how about if we just order pizza. We’ll eat a little bit and then I’ll run us a bath.” 

“I should be taking care of you,” you murmur, turning your head to kiss his hand, “You just got home.” 

“Bah,” he said, “I’m fine, Princess. Nothing exciting happened. I just got to snipe some Nazis and cover Clint’s ass while he tried to cover Scott’s.” He smiled and tucked the blanket around you sweetly, “It’s good to be home, even without apple pie.” He pets your hair and stand slowly, “I’m gonna go get comfortable,” he said softly, “after that I’ll order us some food okay?” 

You nod wordlessly and stretch, trying to get going. Trying to get up, be a good wife and go help him. But you were asleep again before he could get back downstairs. Not sleeping hard, but drifting. Stuck in a hazy twilight state. Bucky paused at the doorway and frowned. 

You never slept like this, struggling so hard to stay awake. He picked up his phone and ordered pizza. Making sure that he also ordered a nice dessert. Something sweet might make you feel better. At the very least, he would enjoy a sweet thing. Now that he knew he’d almost gotten apple pie. 

He also made you an appointment for a check-up. He knew you’d go if he made you but he also knew you’d never make one yourself. Not if you could avoid it. You had a weird aversion to doctors that seemed to stem from growing up without insurance. You didn’t go unless it was imperative. It could be cute if it wasn’t so frustrating. 

When the pizza got there, he got plates and quietly bustled around laying things on the table trying not to wake you up. He started a movie for you, a comfort film that you could watch without having to think. “Baby,” he hums, shaking you awake tenderly, “rise and shine. There’s food. You hungry?” 

You stir a little and struggle to sit up, rubbing your eyes. He helps you up gently and settles you on the sofa, putting a plate with a slice of pizza on it into your hands. 

He knows you and he knows better than to put more than a little on your plate at a time. You’re a picker. You eat. But it’s usually very slowly. With very few exceptions you just don’t eat much at one time. If you aren’t feeling well, you’ll eat even less.

It doesn’t take long for him to find out that he was right. You take a few bites of pizza and a few bites of a brownie before pushing it away with a soft noise, curling up again, putting your head on his lap. Bucky sighs, “Sweetheart,” he murmured, “We’re taking you to get checked out tomorrow. I don’t like this.”

“I’m fine,” you protest yawning, “I’m just a little run down.”

Bucky pets your hair, “Humor me,” he murmurs, “Please, Princess? It might be some anemia. Or some vitamin being low.” 

You nod, “Fine,” you murmur, “but you have to hold my hand if they draw blood.” The former Assassin chuckled and set his plate aside, finally full. “I can do that,” he murmured, “if it means it’ll get you into the doctor’s office.”

_____________

In the morning you look a little better. A little more alert after a night with Bucky. He’d groused about being a teddy bear. About how he was a grown man and you had a ton of stuffies you could cuddle to death, but you knew it was just bluster. He didn’t mind being your giant teddy bear. A husband shaped body pillow. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. He knew you were safe if you were asleep on his chest. 

But, in the harsh light of the exam room, you were still pale. Pale and moving slow. It was enough to worry him a little. Still, you were up. And dressed. Clean. That was something. 

The nurse took your vitals, quick, efficient hands and cheerful demeanor. Bucky liked her. She told you the doctor would be in to see you soon and let herself out. 

It was still early and didn’t take long for a woman with sharp hazel eyes and grey hair tied into a bun to let herself in. “Did you come in of your own accord or did someone force you, Y/N?” she asked fondly. 

“I was coerced,” you snort, “Bucky’s worried about my… I guess it’s fatigue… I’m fine once I get on my feet and get going but getting going is the tricky part.”

She nods and makes a note on your chart before going to feel along your neck. Bucky clears his throat, “I’m not sure how long she was asleep before I got home yesterday but… She fell asleep for the might around 7:30 and didn’t get up this morning until 8am.” 

The doctor nods and frowns a little, “How long have you had this level of fatigue?” she asks. You shrug, “Really just the last couple weeks… I figured it was just the school year wrapping up, you know?” 

She nods, “That could be it,” she acknowledged. She made a note and glanced at your chart again, “Your birth control prescription’s run out, I can write you another while you’re here unless you need something changed.” 

“I haven’t been taking it,” you admit, cheeks coloring. She nods, “In that case, I do want blood work done,” she said, matter of factly, “Just to make sure we cover our bases. How long has it been since your last period?”

You pause for a second, thinking, “I’m not sure… Stress tends to throw them out of whack.” She nods, “Well,” she said noting that in your chart too, “the nurse will be in, in just a second. We’ll run some tests and get back to you.” 

She shakes your hand and then Bucky’s before picking up your chart and stepping into the hall and having a quiet word with a nurse.

Before long, Bucky is letting you hide your face in his neck, murmuring soothing things as you’re getting blood drawn. You’re dizzy and sick feeling, even if you can’t see the blood leaving your body. He kisses your head and helps you sit up straight again when they’ve got what they need and helps you into your jacket. 

“Come on, beautiful,” he says, “Let’s get you out and moving around a little… There’s a little book shop we haven’t visited yet.” 

You nod, “You know how to show a girl a good time, don’t you?” you tease.

He grins, “Just my best girl,” he answers, “Come on, ya nerd. Let’s find you something in a dead language to read.” 

“I never took a girl on a date to look at prototypes of flying cars,” you shoot back, “Pretty sure you’re the nerd.”

He gasps and pretends to be offended as he escorts you out, “Moi?” he says, “You got me all wrong, doll. I’m 100% pure American Beefcake. No nerdery here. I’m too badass.”

You snort, “Sure, baby.” You stand on your toes and kiss his jaw fondly. 

___________

Bucky is happy to ply you with books and treats. Happy to see you really do perk up just a little as the day goes on and you get moving a little. Even if you do still feel “like a sloth running through syrup.” Currently, he’s idly stroking the feet that are resting in his lap and watching Heathers.

He’s gotten tired of not understanding the pop culture references that fly between you and Natasha. It’s a decent movie. He likes it well enough. But it doesn’t quite distract him from the worry that’s burrowed in the back of his mind.

What if you’re sick? Really sick. He doesn’t think he could handle having you snatched away. In his head, he saw terrible things. Watched you snatched out of his arms a thousand different ways. It hurt. You’ve dozed off again, cozy on the couch, book against your chest. 

In a way, that’s comforting. The doctor wasn’t worried. You were probably fine. It was probably just vitamins or hormones. He tucked you in and kissed your head tenderly. He took a deep breath to quell the anxiety and sighed. If you were sick he’d take care of you. You’d get the best medical care and it would all be fine, he decided. 

When your phone rang, he glanced down at it. It was the Doctors office. He didn’t want to wake you up but he wanted to know. 

He picked up the phone and answered it, “Hello?”

“Hi,” the cheerful nurse from early replied as Bucky walked into the kitchen so he could talk and let you sleep, “Is Mrs. Barnes available?”

“Oh, uh. This is her husband,” he said. “I see,” she said. He heard keys tapping and folded his arm across his chest, waiting. “Oh!” she said cheerfully, “She does have a release on file for you… Well just let her know, her vitamin D levels are a little low so we’ve got a prescription for her at the pharmacy. Also, Congratulations!” she said hitting keys, “It looks like Y/N’s pregnant.”

Bucky almost dropped the phone, “I- thank you,” he stammered, “I’ll let her know.” The nurse laughed gently, “As soon as you can think, make sure you tell her to get in touch with us. We’ll get her set up for appointments… I thought you knew already or I would have lead with that.”

Bucky thanked her, feeling a little light-headed as he put the phone down. He gripped the counter and fought the urge to laugh. 

“Was that the Doctor’s office?” your soft voice behind him makes him turn and he melts. You’re wrapped up in your blanket and rubbing your eyes, trying to get you’re bearings. “Yeah,” he said grinning.

“Am I dying?” you tease. 

He feels tears well up and he pulls you against him gently, kissing the top of your head, “No,” he laughed. He took a deep breath and tilted your chin up, “You’re having a baby,” he said a little breathless. 

Your arms around his neck and your lips against his are the only answer he needs. You’re both crying as he lifts you up to set you on the counter, cradling your face in his hands. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said. “Jesus Christ, Princess, I was so scared.”

He hugs you to him, chuckling as you wrap your legs around his waist. “I love you,” you tell him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He kisses you slowly and smiles, “Promise?”

You nod and brush hair out of his eyes, “I promise,” you tell him, wiping tears off his cheeks. 

He scoops you up gently and carries you up the stairs, “Where are we going?” you ask. 

“Upstairs,” he answers, “If I don’t get to kiss every inch of you, now, I’m gonna lose it.” You giggle even as you blush and smudge a kiss against his cheek. “If you ask nicely,” he teased, “I might even run you a bath.” 

“Only if you join me,” you tell him, pouting. 

He laughed and laid you on the bed, pulling off his t-shirt before sprawling out next to you, “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

You card your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled into your belly and smudged soft hungry kisses against the skin he’s exposing. You lounge against the pillows and sigh, “Does this mean if I ask you’ll let me have a puppy?”

He pinches your hip making you giggle and smiles, “God, you’re such a brat… but if I say yes, do I get to name it?”

“They baby or the dog?” you snort.

“Either. Yes?” he answered.

“You can pick names for the dog but I reserve the right to veto them if I hate it,” he said. 

“That’s fair,” Bucky said, easing your leggings over your hips, “I’ve met me.”


	17. Chapter 17

The kitchen of the house smelled like breakfast when Steve and Natasha came through the door. They let themselves in like always, the first to arrive. Sundays had become “Stragglers days” Stray Avengers and other friends who had no place else to be could show up at the house for some food and some company. 

People were in and out. Almost everyone brought a little something and no one cared if the shelves hadn’t been dusted this week. It was a place to go. A way to stave off the loneliness for a little while. 

Steve and Natasha paused in the door way of the kitchen and watched. Bucky was mostly getting in your way as you tried to make breakfast. Pestering you about this and that, making you giggle. He had flour smeared on his shirt and you had some on your cheek. They glanced at each other and smiled a little. They’d both done their share of worrying about Bucky. Adjusting to like after Cryo had been hard on him. He’d struggled to feel worthy of love, from anyone. Watching him now, fretting at you and stealing kisses, making a fool of himself. Being so very soft and stupidly in love, it felt right. You looked up at him like he hung the moon. And Bucky? Bucky would hand you the world if you asked nicely. 

The two of them walked into the kitchen and were greeted happily, “It’s breakfast for lunch today,” you say cheerfully. “Yum,” Nat said approvingly, “Chocolate chip pancakes?” You nod, “And plain. And Blueberry.”

“Thanks, mom,” she teased, kissing your cheek, “Do you even know how many people are coming?”

“Do I ever?” you ask.

“Point,” she concedes.

“Oh! shoot,” you murmur, walking out to the garage, “Pop. Pop in fridge.” It’s more to yourself than anyone else but Nat still follows you. It’s 11am. And a Sunday. Mimosas are in order and the alcohol is all in the fridge in the garage. 

Steve leans on the counter and snags a piece of bacon, “Do I want to know?” he asked.

“Know what?” Bucky said flipping pancakes easily.

“The coffee pot isn’t even on and Y/N is awake. And chipper. Before 11:30,” Steve snorts. You don’t do mornings. If you could get away with not having class until Noon, you would.

Bucky felt his cheeks color and he looked down, trying not to let Steve see the soft smile that he got, anytime he even thought about the baby starting to grow inside you. “It’s just been good to be home,” he said after a moment, chuckling. 

“I see the Trophy husband training is going well,” Steve teased, “Nothing is burning yet.”

Bucky nodded, a little proud of himself. “I’ve had good teachers.”

_____________

Nat considered the Alcohol you had stocked and cocked her head, “If I make mimosas will you drink some with me?” 

Your hands still for a fraction of a second on the cans of pop you’re taking out of cases to put in the fridge, “Not today, I don’t think,” you said, “But I’m sure the boys would, after they stop whining about girly drinks.” 

Nat turns her head and considers you for a second, “Are you feeling okay?” she asked gently. She knew you’d been struggling While Bucky was away. Wrestling you some insecurities. Some impostor syndrome. 

“I’m fine,” you say smiling, “I had blood work done. It was just some low vitamin levels, they’ll get me sorted.” 

She nods, not convinced, but happy that you seem to be better today at least. Last week you’d put on a brave face but they all knew you just wanted to crawl back into your bed and sulk. They hadn’t let you, of course. The evening had been mellow. You’d fallen asleep in a cuddle pile with her and Carol. An impromptu sleepover.

“Any baby news?” she asked, mostly teasing. 

You shake your head, your cheeks turning pink even as you try not to giggle and keep a straight face.

“Oh my god,” she snorts, “you’re such a bad liar.” She pulls you into a hug and kisses the side of your head, wiping away your happy tears with her thumb, “Does Bucky know?” she asked, “Oh god am I the first one you told? I’m sorry. I was kidding!”

That does make you giggle, “Bucky knew before I did. He answered the phone when the doctor’s office called… We haven’t told anyone yet. It’s still early, I haven’t even had my first appointment yet.”

She kisses your cheeks and hugs you again, laughing. “I’m happy for you,” she says fondly, “And I’m gonna be the cool aunt.”

You snort, “Well… duh,” you tell her, tugging a lock of her long red hair affectionately. 

The boys in the kitchen listen to the minor commotion in the garage and Steve shakes his head, “I don’t want to know. If I don’t know I can’t be implicated.” 

Bucky snorts, “I should still probably go tell Y/N there’s food. And more people are coming. Sam just texted and so did Clint.

Steve helps himself as Bucky goes out to the garage, only to be met by Natasha, flinging herself at him and kissing his cheeks in between rapid-fire Russian scoldings and congratulations.

“Nat,” he says laughing, “We only found out Friday.” 

“Found out what?” Steve asked walking around the corner, shoving a bite of pancake in his mouth.

Bucky pulls you close and kisses the top of your head, “We hadn’t wanted to tell anyone yet,” he said beaming, “But, Y/N is pregnant.” 

Steve almost dropped the plate he was holding, “Wait really?” 

You nod, cheeks glowing pink, “We found out Friday.” 

Natasha wordlessly takes his plate and stands aside, letting him hug you both. He kisses the side of your head and lingers for a moment on Bucky, “That’s great,” he said, “I’m happy for you.” 

Bucky reclaimed you, putting his hands in your hoodie pocket so they could rest against your still flat stomach. “Please don’t tell anyone?” he asked, “Becky is gonna be heartbroken if she finds out last. And Y/N’s mom.”

Natasha smiles, “I won’t tell. Secrets are kinda my stock and trade… But oh my god I have so many clothes to show you.”

You giggle and Steve watches Bucky drop a kiss on your neck, “I’m not telling either… Becky is terrifying.” 

“Telling what?” Sam asked, walking through to the Garage with a case of beer and some veggies for the grill later.

“Nothing!” The four of you say at once, bursting into helpless laughter.


	18. Chapter 18

Bucky listens with half an ear as you talked on the phone, “Mama,” you laugh, “everything is fine. Just fine. We’ve been to all our check-ups and I take my vitamins every day.” He shakes his head. You weren’t even showing yet really. Only when he had you naked.

The little curve of your tummy and the swell of your breasts were really only noticeable then, still safely hidden under your clothes.

But Becky and your mother still called often, fussing and offering advice. You’d just gotten back from taking Becky to do some shopping and he was still willing to bet she’d be calling you to remind you to eat or telling you something not to eat. You hold out the phone to him, silently pleading with him and he chuckles, taking it gently. 

“Mama,” he says gently, “We’ll call you the second we need anything. I promise.” He listens for a second and sighs, “No, we haven’t decided all that yet. As soon as we do, we’ll tell you.” 

You straddle his lap, arms and legs wrapping around his torso demandingly and he swats your backside affectionately. “No, Mama, I gotta go. Y/N hungry and I should probably feed her dinner.” You look up at him and snort, “I love you too,” he says, “Yes I’ll make sure she drinks water.” 

He gets himself off the phone with a sigh and tosses it gently on the coffee table, “Holy cow,” he groaned, “You’d think I was letting you deadlift 200 pounds and live on kit kats.” 

You grin, “I do eat a lot of kit kats right now,” you admit. He kisses your nose, “I know,” he chuckled, “I just bought you a bag of the Mini ones on Monday and they’re almost gone.” You pout a little, “I can’t help it, if they’re there I’m gonna eat them.”

He swats your backside again lovingly and laughs, “I know, Princess. Pickles, kit kats and red licorice. And just spicy things.”

“Not at the same time,” you protest. Bucky snorts and kneads into your hips, “No, not at the same time. Usually.”

He smiles a little when you melt under his touch. He really enjoyed the changes to your body. And your sex drive. You were always a little needy, but now you didn’t seem to ever want to stop. Saturday night after you got home from taking Becky to get the things she wanted and take her to lunch and into the wee small hours of the morning, Bucky knew exactly what he’d be doing. 

You. As many times as you could take. 

It made up for how busy things got through the week. For not being able to spend hours and hours catering to your every little whim. In those evenings it didn’t matter what you wanted, as long as it was safe for you and the baby, he’d let you have it. He smothered you in treats and affection until you were too sleepy and sated to do much more than snuggle closer. Not that you didn’t give as good as you got. You’d done things to him that made him see stars. A couple times he’d started speaking in Russian before he realized he was doing it. 

“What’s the plan for today, Mama?” he hummed, resting his hand on your thighs and smoothing slow circles into the sensitive skin on the inside with his thumbs.

“Nothing,” you sigh, “I need a day off. Between the consult Fury asked for and my research, and trying to get things ready in the nursery, I’m exhausted.”

“Then nothing it is,” he soothed, “We can take today and rest… Maybe recreate a little… since we already did the procreate part.” He touches your belly with gentle fingers and smiles softly. 

“How’s the baby fever?” she teased.

He grinned, unapologetic, his voice getting husky “I’m still burning up, I think. I can’t wait to see you get bigger. Want everyone to see you. You’re so beautiful, Princess.”

You shiver, “Handsome, that’s not just baby fever,” you tell him, “You’ve got a new kink.”

Bucky laughed, “And I think I like it,” he murmured, kissing along your collar bones, “love what the hormones are doing to you.” You blush and he affectionately reaches between you to palm your cunt, tutting at how you whimper for him. 

“Can’t help it,” you plead softly, “You feel nice. Safe… Makes me feel better.”

“What needs to feel better, Mama?” he asks softly. You blush, “Just… Ashley called.”

You don’t need to say another word. Ashley is good at making you feel like shit. Preying on your insecurities and impostor syndrome. He tuts softly and his lips crash into yours, his tongue licking into your mouth. 

He doesn’t know what to say, but he does know how to distract you. How to drown out the anxiety and discomfort. He wraps his arms around you and keeps you snug against him, reminding you that your anxiety likes to tell you lies. That he loves you. That he’s here and Ashley is wrong. He’s not going to leave you. 

When he pulls away, when he feels you relax a little, he smiles tenderly, “What’d she say?” he asked.

You sigh, “Nothing really. Except the usual implications. You know, my real dad didn’t really care about me so like… why would anyone else. It’s not like dad is really my dad.”

He took a deep breath, “Every time you say that I really wish I’d let you beat her up last Christmas,” he murmured. You make a soft resigned noise and he tilts your chin up, “I love you,” he says softly, cradling your face, “you’re not getting fat, you’re expecting. You’re supposed to get a little plump. You’re amazing at your job. And I’m not going anywhere, okay?” 

Tears well up and you swallow hard, “Okay, I’m sorry.” 

“Shh,” he soothed, “Princess, don’t be sorry. You don’t ever have to be sorry for feelings. Feelings aren’t logical. You aren’t hurting me.” He wiped a tear away and smiled, “Your heart is in a really fragile place right now. If I had to deal with that many hormones I’d probably just be sobbing in the corner all day.”

You snort and he smiles a little, “Baby,” he hums, “you’re okay. Your sister is terrible. She pounces on you at the worst time then yells at you for getting upset. It’s disorienting and abusive… Let me talk to her next time. You don’t need the stress, okay?” 

You nod and snuggle against him, “Just don’t kill her.”

“No promises,” he said lightly.

“Bucky,” you scold gently, “she can’t help it.”

“I don’t care. She hurt my girl,” he said, “That isn’t allowed.”

You sigh, “Can we just go watch movies and pretend other people don’t exist?” Bucky laughed softly, “Only if we can do it naked.” He kisses your nose and you shake your head, “Such a horndog.”

“You would be too if you got to have sex with you,” he protested.

“We can cuddle naked,” you sigh, “But only because I am extremely susceptible to flattery.”

He grinned and shifted your weight so he could carry you in his arms instead of over his shoulder, “Sold… But now I want to know what else I could get you to do.”

“Play your cards right and find out,” you tell him, kissing his jaw


	19. Chapter 19

“Jeeze, Bucky,” Sam said poking the brunette’s abs teasingly, “Are you sure Y/N is the one that’s pregnant?” Bucky snorted. He knew his abs were less defined than they had been, but he also didn’t care.

“Have you seen her lately?” he said, smiling a little. Your tummy wasn’t so easy to hide under your favorite t-shirts anymore and your shorts and a few pairs of jeans had had to be replaced. You’d protested that you had leggings and stuff but Bucky hadn’t listened. He wanted you to be comfortable and with summer here, at last, leggings were not going to cut it. 

Steve laughed and took a drink from his water bottle, “You getting nervous yet?” he asked. Bucky wiped the sweat off his face and sighed, “Sometimes,” he admitted, “mostly I’m afraid I’ll hurt them.”

Steve sobered and Sam winced just out of Bucky’s line of sight. They’d had this conversation before. It was how Sam had even found out you were pregnant. Bucky had had a bad night. He’d woken up screaming, scared you to death, and then had almost broken your hand when you’d reached for him. 

It had been a reflex. He didn’t want to do it. He never would do it. For a moment he hadn’t known where he was. Your little cry of pain and terrified sob had snapped him back to the present, quickly. Bucky had gone cold all over and snatched you out of bed apologizing and trying to explain as he carried you to the car to take you to get your hand looked at. 

Once he knew it was just a sprain, that he’d not hurt you on purpose. After hearing you through the door explaining to the nurse that no, you really weren’t being abused and it really had been an accident, he’d taken you home, gotten you comfortable, and left. 

Steve and Sam had found him where he’d been for the last 12 hours. He was exhausted and trembling. At first, they had thought that there’d been a fight. But Bucky told them that had happened. How scared he’d made you for a second. How scared he was that he might hurt you worse the next time. Or hurt the baby. He’d managed to talk himself into leaving. Convinced himself that it would be best if he kept his distance to keep from hurting you. 

Steve had smacked him in the head then, “If you leave her I’m gonna kick your ass, Buck.” he’d threatened gently. 

They’d talked him off the ledge. Reminded him that he had stopped, as soon as she cried. As soon as he remembered who she was and that he hadn’t, probably wanted to hurt her to start with. Reminded him that you’d be heartbroken if he left. Reminded him that you needed him, for once, now that there was a baby coming, probably more than he needed you. 

Bucky came home with flowers. Ready to plead with you and apologize for hurting you. When he found you snuggled up in bed, face buried in his pillow for comfort, his heart lightened. He’d curled up around you gently and hugged you close. Burying his face in your hair until he fell asleep.

_________

“You’re not going to hurt them,” Sam said after a long moment. Bucky half turned and Sam smiled a little, “Do you know how soft you are with her? Dude. You went full Winter Soldier mode mid-fight once and you know what Steve did? He fucking played a clip of her talking. Just talking. And you snapped back so quick I think you gave yourself whiplash.”

Bucky remembered that. Well. Parts of it. He remembered the red haze and your voice bringing everything back into focus. Steve smiled a little, “Shuri might have de programed you, but she brought you back, Buck... You’re the most like you when your with her.”

“That might be more terrifying than when you ripped the steering wheel out of my car,” Sam added, “Was he really that much of a marshmallow?”

Steve chuckled and nodded, “Bucky, Y/N and the baby are perfectly safe with you. You’d rather die than hurt them, she knows that. Just let her love you, you punk.”

Bucky nodded slowly, thinking of you at home with Becky, making dinner. Apple pie, special, just because he’d mentioned earlier in the week that it sounded good. Even though you’d had something else planned. The simplicity of it. The warmth that spread through his chest listening to the soft feminine chatter in the kitchen.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder, “C’mon,” he said, “Your missus promised us dinner if we got you out of her hair for a little while.”

_____________

“Becky,” you sigh, “I’m fine. Honestly, if I sit down for a minute all that’s going to happen is this is going to take longer. The boys will be hungry when they get here.”

The older woman frowns at you, “Sweetheart you’ve not slowed down since I got here,” she tutted. Nat smiled a little and helped herself to a cookie, “Seriously Y/N come sit and have a cookie at least.”

“I don’t like that kind,” you tell them politely, “And I have at least one more pie to make.” 

“I don’t understand how you can bake all this stuff and not eat it all,” Becky said looking around at the kitchen. 

You laugh and pause for a moment to stretch a cramp out of your back from working in the garden earlier, “I guess it’s because I grew up eating it. Like it was always there... so now it just doesn’t phase me.”

Nat took a bite of cookie and sighed, “Is this all your moms recipe?” 

You shake your head, “This is my great-grandma’s. At least for the cookies. The pie is all my mom’s stuff.”

Becky nodded happily, “At least it’s good to know Bucky isn’t starving. Or living on take out any more.”

You smile, “He does eat better now, kinda.”

You hear the door and nod to yourself, applying your self to rolling out a pie crust. 

“Hello, ladies!” Sam said leaning over to snag a cookie. Steve kissed Nat hello and Bucky brushed a kiss against the top of his little sister’s head before crossing the floor to greet you. 

“Hey, doll,” he said wrapping his arms around you and letting his hands rest on your belly. You smiled up at him and he felt himself melt.

“How was work?” you ask. He smoothes circles into your stomach with his thumbs and drops a kiss hello on your forehead, “Fine,” he said softly, “Just glad to be home. Happy to be with my girls.”

You let him linger for a minute, letting him be comforted and enjoying the feel of him touching your belly so lovingly. He kisses the back of your neck happily and lets you go once he feels centered, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he goes to steal a cookie. 

________

Bucky takes the stack of plates out of your hands and sets them down. “Sweetheart,” he said, “Please sit down. Your ankles are getting swollen.” 

“I’m fine,” you protest quietly. 

“Please?” he murmured, touching your stomach tenderly, “I know,” he said when you open your mouth to answer, “You feel fine. But I’d feel better if you sit down and rest for a second.”

You sit down reluctantly and Bucky kisses your hair, “Good girl,” he murmurs against your ear as he laid plates out to set the table. 

Becky pushes your water bottle towards you gently and pets your stomach affectionately. “I don’t understand why you don’t want to know what you’re having,” she pouted, “I wanna know what I should be buying.”

You shake your head, “We’re having a baby,” you laugh, “But Bucky swears we’re having a girl.”

Steve smacked him on the arm, “You were supposed to give me a nephew I could train to be my sidekick,” he teased.

Bucky snorts and drops a kiss on your head as he lays dinner out on the table. 

“Hey!” you tell Steve as Natasha smacked his arm, “Yeah, damn it.” Sam took a pull of his beer and smiled, “Yeah, Steve.”

Bucky makes your plate, fussing quietly as you and Natasha continue to make Steve regret his word choice as Becky sits on your other side and giggles.

You nibble on your dinner and Bucky fusses quietly and keeps water in your glass. 

________

Everyone is lounging in the living room, Bucky has your feet in his lap and strokes them idly, rubbing where he knows they’re sore after you’d spent so long on them. Nat is sitting on the floor by the couch, scrolling through baby things on her tablet. “I like that one,” you tell her thoughtfully, “Send it to me?”

She nods, “It is super cute,” she said, “And it’ll work even if Bucky is wrong.”

“He’s got a 50/50 chance of being right for once,” you say stretching.

Bucky smacks the bottoms of your feet very gently, “I’m not wrong, Doll,” he said, before working on the arches of your feet, easing up when you jerked.

Nat turns and smiles at him, “I dunno,” she said, “Either way, this baby is gonna be so spoiled.”

“So very spoiled,” Steve seconded. 

“And what’s wrong with that, I’d like to know,” Becky said from her chair, “Babies should be spoiled.”

__________

Later that night, Becky asleep in her guest room downstairs and the rest of your guests gone home for the night, you snuggled into Bucky’s chest and he wrapped his arms around you sleepily.

“I love you,” he murmured, petting your tummy drowsily, comforted by the warmth. 

He sighed, content and happy. “Apple pie knocked you out huh?” you tease.

“Guess so,” he said, yawning. You poke his stomach teasingly and smile, “You and your sweet tooth,” you tut.

He smiles, “Not sorry,” he said, “It’s delicious.”


	20. Chapter 20

The puppy, who Bucky had named Whiskey, was a Greman Shepherd. He said that if they had to get a dog, he didn’t want a dust mop with legs.

He wanted something with lots of energy he could take running. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little irritated watching the little creature epoxy himself to your side. It was clear, pretty much from day two that you were his favorite. Not that Bucky couldn’t sympathize. You were his favorite too.

Currently, despite the heat and your discomfort, you were working in the garden, patiently explaining all the vegetables to an apparently eagerly listening puppy and to the baby who hadn’t been still hardly at all, all day. You said they were probably starting to get a little cramped. Bucky looked up from where he was tinkering with putting a baby swing on a low, sturdy tree branch and smiled a little. You were always so fucking beautiful.

He put his tools away and strolled across the grass, sprawling next to you, “How you feelin’, Mama?” he asked, sitting up to look at you. You stretch your back and groan, “Mostly just fat,” you tell him, “A little tired.” Bucky tuts quietly and kisses your cheek, “You’re not fat,” he scolded, “you’re just very pregnant. And I think you look good like this.”

Your cheeks color and he pounces, kissing your neck just below your ear and wrapping his arms around you to rub the belly he was so proud of, “You look so sexy,” he murmured, “All full of my kid. I love watching you grow our baby. Knowing that everyone can see that you’re mine.” His voice had sunk into the raspy growl that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Bucky,” you whimper, a little breathless as metal fingers find the inside of your thigh, cool against your over warm skin, making you shiver in need. You could feel his erection pressing against your hip even as he chuckled. Pleased at how easy it was to make you ache for him. 

“So needy, Princess,” he hummed. “Already so very full of my seed and you still want more. Somebody,” he paused to push your thighs apart and palm your cunt through your shorts, “Is a very, very, lucky girl.” He smiled when you whine softly as he takes his hand away, “Do you know why you’re lucky, Darlin’?” he asked teasingly. 

“N-no,” you stammer, distracted by the hand that was rubbing your sore breasts gently. The mix of pain and his touch making your clit throb urgently.

“You’re lucky,” he says, “because I’ve been watching you all day. And I need you too. Fuck, I love seeing you squirming and blissed out on my dick. How needy and eager you get... The taste of you.”

You squirm in response and he kisses your throat, tilting your head back gently to suck a soft mark into the skin. “Let’s get you upstairs, Mama,” he whispers, voice thick with lust, “I think it’s time for a nap.”

Bucky looked forward to this from the second his feet hit the floor in the morning after the sleepy morning lovemaking that started with you smudging eager kisses down his chest. 

Sometimes, it really was a nap. A little time for you to rest and get some time to relax after a morning of work. Other times, like now, he had this primal need to be inside you. To make love to you and spend the rest of the afternoon in a state of soft, hazy, blissful comfort. Enjoying the feel of your body, rubbing your belly to help soothe the baby to keep you in bed. To keep you from getting up to walk around and rock them back to sleep.

You don’t protest as he carries you into the house and up the stairs, ordering Whiskey to his bed just outside the door before shutting it. No sense in scaring the poor thing for life.

He strips you easily, lavishing devouring kisses over every stretchmark and ticklish place he can find, “So pretty,” he growls, “so big for me.” He rests his cheek on your belly lovingly and presses soft kisses into the swell. Eager to worship your body. To show his appreciation. There isn’t much talking aside from his growls of praise and your moans and sighs. 

Bucky knows you like he knows the back of his hand. He knows what to do to bring you pleasure. He puts you straddling his lap, your back against his chest, encouraging you to set a pace that feels good even as he teases your sensitive clit. “Bucky, “ you pant, “Fuck. Oh, fuck. Don’t stop. Please. Yes,” you cry, arching into his touch. Your husband growls in response and bites your shoulder, eager to have you come just once more before he fills you. 

He feels you come apart around him, rolling his hips to help you when he feels you starting to get tired, and he lets himself go, tumbling after you with his own cry of agonized bliss. 

He stays inside you for a long moment and hugs you to him, bringing you down tenderly, “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, “Always so good for me.”

When you shiver he smiles and readjusts to lay you comfortably on the bed, “Bucky,” you murmur, “Please don’t go.”

“Shhh,” he hushes gently, “I’m here,” he said, “Just getting a washcloth. And some snacks, your tummy is growling... No small wonder. You did all the hard work this time, I just had to enjoy the show.”

He slips out of the room and comes back a few moments later with a warm washcloth, spreading your thighs gently to clean you up before tucking a light blanket around you gently. 

“What are you hungry for Mama?” he asks. You snuggle close, more interested in being held than eating at the moment and he nods, “You okay, Sweetheart?” he asked concerned.

“Just sleepy,” you say, “Trying not to worry.”

“Worry about what, baby?” he hums, settling you in his arms, putting a pillow between your head and his metal arm. Everyone wins. It doesn’t go to sleep so you can be held like that as long as you want.

“There’s just so much to do,” you murmur, “So much to do in the nursery still. And school is starting soon. And I just... There’s so much. I just don’t want to do anything. I just want to hide in bed.”

He strokes your hair and smiles a little, “We’ll go get all the paint and stuff first thing tomorrow. Before the stragglers show up. I’ll make Steve help me put it together, okay?” You nod and kiss his chest.

“For now,” he says, “you need to rest.” He holds you close, humming lightly to lull you off into sleep, satisfied when he heard your breathing even out. 

___________

When you finally stirred, Bucky wiggled out of your grip to put on a pair of shorts to take Whiskey outside.

The Puppy was a good dog. He was smart. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out not to make messes in the house... The doggie door was still a struggled but he was getting there. Bucky watched him roam the yard, still getting a feel for his kingdom. Figuring out where the boundaries lay. He was getting big. All big feet and gangly legs.Floppy ears that made you giggle when his head tilted.

Bucky sipped his glass of iced tea and listened to you rattle around in the kitchen. Apparently burgers were what you wanted to eat because that’s what you were putting together. Burgers and waffle fries. Bucky kept an eye on Whiskey while he started the grill, waiting for you to finish putting patties together for him. 

You handed him the plate of meat and a beer, kissing his cheek. “Is this a new craving?” he teased. You settle into the swing and prop your feet up on the low table, laughing, “I don’t think so. They’re just easy to put together.”

He nodded, smiling as Whisky tripped all over himself in his haste to take his spot on your right side. He biffed it and knocked himself silly on the edge of the seat the first time, making you coo in sympathy, “Silly boy,” you scold affectionately, “It’s okay.” You pat the seat, “C ‘mon. There’s not much room on my lap but there’s room up here. Even after Daddy sits down.”

He wiggles his way up there and snuggles persistently into your side, nosing at your stomach suspiciously when he feels the baby move. “You’re gonna have to be a good big brother,” you tell him, stroking his ears. His tongue lolls out and Bucky smiles, shaking his head. 

He’s glad that the dog is so devoted to you. It means he’ll be protective of you. It’ll make him feel better when he has to leave you alone. He knows that you might be a little vulnerable right now, but he also knows that you’re a trained martial artist and very capable... Even knowing that, the thought of having to leave you alone with the baby to take his consultant position makes him uneasy. 

Knowing this big, goofy, fluff ball was in the house though, that helped. Especially seeing how much he adored you. 

Dinner was quiet. Bucky fed you as much as he could get away with. Burger, fries, watermelon, some ice cream, anything he could tempt you with until you protested that if you ate any more you’d be sick.

He also flipped a burger patty into Whiskey's dog dish and gave him a little ice cream. It was funny watching him chase his bowl around the deck.

Bucky sipped his beer and sat with his arm around your shoulder watching the sunset, his feet on the low table next to yours. 

The sky was a burning red, fading to a dusky twilight purple. Beautiful. It reminded him a little of Wakanda. He’d like to take you there someday. Show you the first place he felt really safe. You’d like that. 

But not now. You definitely couldn’t travel so far right now. He didn’t even like you taking the train into work.


	21. Chapter 21

Where’s Bucky?” T’Challa asked looking around at the faces that had come to greet him. Steve took his outstretched hand and clasped it, grinning, “Probably at home with his wife trying to get her to calm down before she sends herself into labor early.”

The King grinned and shook his head, “From what I know of her that’s a tall order.” Steve nodded fondly, “It really is.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky said, taking a laundry basket out of your hands, “Please. When I mentioned laundry I didn’t mean I wanted you to do it. I was going to start it after lunch.”

You sigh, “I’m not made of glass, Bucky,” you tell him.

“No,” he said, “You’re not. But you need to be off your feet… and I don’t mean on hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor.” He set the basket down on the counter and rested his hands where your waist used to be, rubbing your sides.

“I’m so fucking bored,” you groan, “We can’t have sex, I can’t clean, I can’t even go on a walk.”

Bucky wiped frustrated tears away and kissed your forehead, “It’s just a precaution,” he said gently, “and not for much longer.” He rubs your belly lovingly, “you’re gonna pop almost any time, Mama.”

“Sooner rather than later, I hope, “ you sigh.

“I know,” he soothes, smiling when he feels a little hand or foot hit his hand. “Humor me,” he pleads, “I thought I lost the two of you. Between that and the stress… You need to slow down, baby.”

The tears aren’t entirely unexpected and Bucky is ready to hand you tissues. Someone had barged into your classroom and attempted to assassinate you. Attempted. Years of martial arts had saved your life even if it had been a little up in the air with the baby for a couple days. The entire shit show had culminated in your forced resignation and you weren’t taking any of it well. With nothing to keep you sufficiently occupied, you were struggling.

“Shhh,” he soothes, “Just slow down, that’s all baby.”

He can’t make out what you’re saying around the sobbing and trying not to but he doesn’t really need to. “I know,” he said, “I know. But it’ll be okay. My girls are both gonna come through this just fine… You just gotta relax, Mama. Relax and let me take care of things. I promise. I’ll get it all done.” He pulls you into his arms then and kisses the side of your head, “Why don’t you get some writing done, huh?” he encourages, “Or snuggle up with Whiskey and a book. He’s gonna miss getting all the cuddles when his little sister gets here.” 

You nod and sigh, “I’m just so ready to be done.” You wipe your nose on the proffered tissue and Bucky chuckles, “If it’s any consolation, I think it’s cute that you waddle… maybe next time I’ll put twins in you.” When you look up at him, irritated, his eyes are laughing at you, teasing, and you can’t even pretend to be really mad at him. “Such a jerk,” you sigh, stretching to ease some of the pain in your back. 

“Not sorry,” he said fondly, kissing your forehead. “Not my fault you make it look so sexy,” he grins, “I’ve not masturbated this much since I first figured out how.” You know he’s serious, you’ve walked in on him a time or two. Shit, you’ve helped him a few times, just desperate to touch him. But, that doesn’t keep you from blushing scarlet. “Go get comfy somewhere Mama,” he encourages, “I’ll bring you something to eat and you can relax for a while. Your feet are getting swollen just standing here.” 

Bucky watches you go. It really is adorable to him, watching you waddle around the house. He knows it’s just the shift in your center of gravity but he kind of wishes it never had to stop. At least until you start to tire out trying to clean and reorganize and then reorganize again trying to soothe all the anxiety in your head. He hates it when you push too hard and get red-faced and out of breath just from the frantic pace you’re at trying to cope with. Trying to appease whatever anxiety you can’t get out of your head. 

__________

“Bucky?”

At the sound of the alarm in your voice, he looks up from where he’d been trying for the 100th time to explain the doggie door to Whiskey, much to Steve’s amusement.

Nat looked towards the garage door where you’d just gone a minute ago to get yourself a soda and feels a moment of panic. Bucky is on his feet and to the door before Steve can even register that something is happening. 

The brunette opens the door and stops, you’re standing in a puddle of fluid looking a little dazed and a little scared, “I- I think my water just broke,” you tell him.

“Shit,” he says, hurrying to help you, “Okay,” he says, kissing the side of your head and helping you walk back into the house. His heart is racing and he wants to panic but he knows you need him to stay calm because you’re already scared enough for both of them. “First thing’s first,” he murmured, “Let’s get you into a dry skirt, huh?” 

He turned to Nat who was already waiting with a phone in her hand, “Call the hospital,” he said, “Let them know we’re coming.” Your grip tightened on his hand and you hissed in pain making his kiss your head again, “Steve, can you just grab her bag and put it in the car? It’s in the nursery by the door.”

“The baby’s coming?” Steve said, looking momentarily alarmed. Natasha threw a clementine at him from the bowl on the counter already on the phone, “Yes. Now do what you’re told.” 

Bucky helped you up the stairs and helped you change your clothes, already timing contractions. He paused for a second and kissed you softly, “You’re gonna do fine, kid,” he murmured, “We’ll be holding a baby before we know it.” 

“You’ll stay with me right?” you ask.

He nodded, “The whole time,” he soothed, “Just like we planned. It’ll be you and me, just like we started, okay? Steve and Nat are gonna go keep Becky company. Nat will pick your ma up when her flight gets in. It’ll all be okay. You just do the pushing and we’ll worry about the details.”

He feathers soft kisses over your face until you giggle and helps you down the stairs, pausing at the garage door to hug Steve, “We’ll let you know when anything happens… Make sure Becky doesn’t stay up all night,” he said.

Steve nodded and watched Natasha hug you gently, “Let me know if he faints,” she teases, “Sam said he won’t… I’ve got money on him being wrong.”

You laugh and Bucky mock scowls at her before helping you to the car.

___________

12 hours and countless phone calls later, you’re in a haze of pain and sweat, the metallic smell of blood clashing with the sterile hospital smell.

“Almost there, Darlin’“ Bucky encourages, kissing your head. 

“One more big push,” the Doctor says as a Nurse quietly positions Bucky where he can watch if he wants to.

He turns his head when you scream, mostly because it makes his heart drop to somewhere around his feet. That’s no help. Watching the baby slide into the Doctor’s hands is just one thing he never needs to see again. He goes white and hits the floor, his hand slipping out of yours as he lands in a very large heap on the floor.

At your cry of alarm the nurse pets your hand, “It’s always the big ones,” she tutted, slapping him gently on the cheek to bring him back around.

__________________

Steve pauses in the doorway of the hospital room with Nat and Becky, feeling like they’re intruding on an intensely private moment. Bucky is next to you on the bed, holding you gently as you cuddle the baby. A little pink cap tells them that Bucky was right. 

His forehead is resting on your shoulder and he looks, as he so often looks when he’s with you, just at peace. 

Becky is less shy, letting herself in and greeting you both with kisses before peering at the baby in your arms with a soft gasp, “Oh I knew you’d make beautiful babies,” she gushed, “Can I?” You let her take her niece and look up to smile at Steve and Natasha who are hugging Bucky.

Steve punches Bucky on the arm and smiles, “Guess you’re officially domesticated now huh?”

Bucky grins, “I can finally be a trophy husband like I always wanted.” 

Nat rolls her eyes and steps to your side, kissing your cheek, “She really is beautiful, Y/N,” she murmurs, “You okay?” 

You nod, “Just tired,” you tell her, “But I can say that Sam owes you $50… He fainted.”

Steve laughed and Bucky felt himself blush, “It was a lot of blood, okay?”

“You’re an assassin!” Steve and Natasha said together.

“Yeah, from a distance!” he said, making you giggle.

________________

Coming home is nice. You missed your bed. And poor Whiskey who’s been confused and a little scared since his Mommy and Daddy left in a hurry. 

What isn’t nice, is constantly being hounded. Ashley and Mama Penny have both come to help. And by help, you assume they mean to make you feel incompetent. You’re not sure why Ashley is there but it feels like some kind of Karmic retribution. 

Nothing you do is right. It doesn’t matter how often you try to breastfeed, it doesn’t take. You never hold her right. 

“No, Y/N, not like that,” 

“Sweetheart let me do it,”

“Should you really be doing it that way?”

By the other token, nothing Bucky does is wrong. They’re both just thrilled he even wants to do things. They gush over how good he is with Emma and it hurts. 

The one saving grace is your dad. He’s the last person to tell you how to do anything. He’s content just to be able to cuddle his newest grandchild. Especially after he’d had to be 1300 miles away while you were in trouble. 

“I really hope her typing doesn’t wake up the baby,” Penny frets looking towards the stairs.

She’d just lectured you about “running away” and “being irresponsible” hiding in your office, telling you she wouldn’t be there to do things for you forever, after of course, not letting you sit to feed her yourself.

Bucky was gone. He’d had to leave just two days after you got her home. It was day four and you already had no faith in your ability to take care of her. It depressed you. You weren’t typing so much as berating yourself in print. Just one word. Failure. Over and over again.

“I’m sure that if Emma can sleep through your cackling, she can sleep through some keys clicking,” Dan said calmly. 

The keys stop and Dan’s ears perk up a little. It’s an old manual typewriter he’d bought for you years ago. He found it for $50 in an antique shop poking around for a nice knife to give to Ty. He knows that sound. Usually, he associates it with contentment. This is not content pecking away. It’s not as rapid. He slips out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He finds his way to Emma’s room and stops in the door.

If there was ever an illustration for Depression, this would be it. 

You’re sitting on the floor, your head resting on the bars of the crib, one hand wrapped around a bar and the other supporting you on the ground. You look like you want to touch her but you’re afraid to. Tears running down your face as you whisper quiet apologies to her. 

“Sunflower,” he murmurs, careful not to startle you, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you say getting up, wiping your face, “I’ll go. I don’t wanna wake her up.”

“Babygirl,” he says, stopping you gently, “If you want to hold her, pick her up, it’s okay.”

You shake your head, “I’ll hurt her,” you protest, “I can’t. I should go. See if mom needs any help. Or something.” You wiggle out of his grip and disappear down the hall on quiet feet and Dan feels his heartbreak just a little. He picks up his Granddaughter who’s fussing now that you’re gone and rubs her back, “It’s not you, little girl,” he rumbles, “Mama’s just going through it right now. I promise, no one loves you as much as she does.”

He carries her downstairs carefully and stops in the doorway, listening. Penny is telling you how to clean now and Ashley is lecturing you about not drinking coffee with creamer. Telling you you’ll never get your body back that way.

“Ashley,” Dan says quietly, “Enough. It’s been a week. Let the girl live, damn.” You give him a small smile and he pulls out a chair, “Come sit with us?” he asked.

You sink into the chair, aching to just cuddle the baby he’s holding and he hands her to you carefully, shooting Penny a look when she steps forward. 

You cuddle her gently, holding her to you cautiously. Waiting for someone to snatch her away or tell you how to do it. You’re afraid you’re doing it wrong. That she’s hurt. You want to cry but you can’t. Your eyes hurt and your throat burns. But you can’t let go.

When she starts to fuss, getting hungry, Penny takes her, “Now watch how to do this,” she lectures.

“I know how,” you think, heartsore. You watch. Emma is still fussing, irritated and you want to take her back and feed her in the rocker. Where she likes to be. But you know that probably isn’t right. You slink out of the kitchen, needing to be able to breathe. 

__________

Bucky lets himself in through the garage and puts his bag down. He’s tired and all he wants to do is hold his girls until they all fall asleep. 

You’re conspicuously absent though. Just not in the house. He wanders around, holding Emma, looking for you as Penny chatters at him, “I don’t know where she’s gone,” she said, “honestly. I didn’t raise her this way. She went to the store a couple hours ago and still isn’t back. She didn’t even tell us you were on the way.”

“Did she take her phone?” he asked.

Dan shook his head, “It rings out in the office upstairs.”

Bucky cuddled the baby and kissed her head, “Where’d Mama go, huh?” he asked, “Did she tell you?” He stood there, thinking. Trying to rein in the panic. 

It’s not a few seconds later that bags rustle as you walk through the door. You look exhausted and pale. Like you probably cried for a while some place before you came home. 

The sight of Bucky standing in the kitchen with Emma stops you cold and you drop all the bags you’re holding, “Bucky,” you murmur. He pulls you against his chest, metal arm flexing around you, “Hey, Darlin’,” he says, kissing your head to give himself a second to hide how shocked he is. You didn’t look this wrecked after 12 hours in labor. “I missed you,” you tell him. He hugs you a little closer, “I missed you, too.” 

“Well now that you’re home, maybe someone besides Penny or I will look after the baby, “ Ashley cut in. 

Bucky can feel you wince and start to pull away, looking for someplace to go where you can be. Somewhere you can feel okay now that it’s apparent that he can’t protect you from the reality that you’re a bad mom. 

“I’m trying,” you murmur, backing up.

“Hiding in your office isn’t trying,” Penny scolded, “Neither is taking forever at the store.” 

Bucky glances at Dan who gives him a look that very clearly says, “I know. I tried.”

You’re gone before he can even process what’s happening. Bare feet on the stairs with Whiskey following after looking distressed. 

“I didn’t raise her like that,” Penny repeated, shaking her head. 

_____________________

Bucky follows after you, slowly. He’s jet-lagged and confused. Things were fine, he thought. You were doing fine. Emma was fed and cuddled and cared for. You’d been so happy to be home. 

You’re in the nursery, trying to put things away but your hands are shaking and it’s hard to pick things up. Really you just want to remember this smell. 

How happy you were to put all this together. Smearing paint on Bucky’s nose in retribution for him putting a handprint on your stomach on accident. 

Because clearly, you need to leave. Let Bucky find someone who can do things the right way. Emma deserves a mom that can take care of her.

“Hey, Mama,” he said quietly, stopping in the doorway.

You shake your head, “I can’t do it, Bucky,” you whisper, wiping tears away on your sleeve.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Anything,” you say, “Nothing is right… I can’t I should go. I should let you find someone better. It’s all a mess. I’m going to hurt her. And the house… and I can’t. She’s- she-she’s.” You start crying, too overwhelmed and scared and hurt to keep going or make any sense.”

“Princess,” he murmurs, “Sweetheart, oh, god,” he pulls you against him and sinks with you onto the floor, “no one is ever gonna know what we need like you do,” he says. “No one. Not your mom. Not Becky. Not anyone.” That brought everything into sharp focus. Watching you meltdown. 

He gently put Emma in your arms, going to get a cool washcloth for your face and almost colliding with Penny in the hall where she was headed to the nursery with a bottle, “No,” Bucky said taking it from her gently, “You’re gonna let her do it. You’re not going to take Emma away from her and lecture her. This is her house. Emma is her baby.” 

“She’s not gonna-” she started.

“No,” Bucky said again calmly. He gestured to where you sat on the floor, “Does that look like a woman who doesn’t want to take care of her kid?” he asked. “Let her do things. Her way,” he said, “I love you and I’m so glad you’re here but if you don’t stop, I’m gonna put you on the next flight home. With Ashley who shouldn’t be here anyway.”

He took the bottle and walked into the room, shutting the door firmly but gently and leaving her sputtering outside. 

“Here, Mama,” he murmured, bringing you the bottle for the fussy newborn and helping you to your feet so you could sit more comfortably in the rocker where he knew you both liked to be. 

“I’m gonna do it wrong,” you protest softly.

“No you’re not,” he soothed, “You’ve fed babies before. You know how. Just try, baby. It’ll be okay.” 

He watches as you feed her, Emma sucking contentedly, happy to be with you and be rocked while she eats, “See?” Bucky says smiling a little, “She’s fine. She’s gonna be fine, Darlin’. You know what you’re doing.”

“Thank you,” you say after a long minute. It feels so good to just hold her and not be interrupted. 

“For what?” Bucky asked, settling in the floor, his back against the crib.

“For coming home when you did. I almost just packed my shit and left,” you admit quietly.

Bucky nodded, “I’m sorry I left you alone. And that I didn’t step in sooner… I knew you’d been feeling a little fragile, even before Emma was born. I just… I figured your ma would know how to help you.”

You smile a little ruefully, “Mama means well,” you tell him. He nods, “I know. But she’s not allowed to talk to you like that. Not anymore.”

Emma fed, burped, and changed, Bucky walks with you down the stairs. He meets Dan’s eye and nods a little. You’re not “better” but it’s a start. Dan lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiles a little. You look less tense. You aren’t even listening as Bucky lays out ground rules, reminding them that if they aren’t followed they’re welcome to leave. When Ashley starts to protest he holds up a hand, “You’ve been terrible to my wife for years,” he says bluntly, “The only reason you’re allowed in this house is that she lets you stay. If I had my way you would have stayed home.” 

“Daddy,” she gasps “are you gonna let him talk to me like that?”

“Yes,” Dan answers pulling out a chair for you and offering you a fresh cup of coffee, just like you like it. 

“Thanks, daddy,” you tell him, looking up from your daughter where her little hand is curled around your finger. 

Penny stays quiet, looking ashamed of herself. Replaying the last few days over and over in her head. It hurts that this is the longest you’ve gotten to hold your child since she’d come through your door. 

Bucky sits on your other side and puts his arm around the back of your chair, reluctant to leave you even to get a nap. He smiles a little, soaking in watching you relax a little every second Emma is sleeping against your heart. And for the Millionth time since he came out of Cryo, he thanks God for little sisters. Especially his and her meddling.


	22. Chapter 22

Bucky shifted Emma to rest a little more comfortably on his chest and Rebecca melted a little, kissing her head and putting a coffee in front of him where he could reach it with his other hand. 

“How’s Y/N doing? Any better?” she asked, concern coloring her tone. 

Bucky sighed, “There are good days and bad days,” he said.

Rebecca tutted, “Poor darling,” she said softly, “I hate that.”

“I know,” he said snuggling his daughter, “Penny and I had to have a chat last night... She’s gotten better but she’s already pressing on her about another baby.”

“Emma isn’t even three months old!” she sputtered. Bucky snorted, “I know. That’s why we had a chat. I know she means well but Jesus.” Rebecca sipped her coffee and sighed, “I can sympathize. Ma was always on my case about something. I don’t think I ever did one thing with my kids that she approved of. Even if I did what she said. She meant well but damned if I didn’t hate it when she came to dinner.”

“Is that why you never tell Y/N how to do things?” Bucky asked. “Not unless she asks me,” Rebecca said, “It’s irritating and I hated it. She’s a good girl. She doesn’t need to be told Emma needs to be fed when she cries.”

Bucky patted her hand and she smiled, “Where is Y/N?” she asked, “I miss her.”

“She’s working out with Nat today,” he said shaking his head. He didn’t mind you being a little soft. You’d just been cleared to even do any strenuous physical activity again. You hadn’t even had sex yet. Not that he hadn’t tried. You’d been uncomfortable and hadn’t wanted him to see you, despite his best efforts to set you at ease.

“Maybe she’ll feel better once she gets a routine down,” Rebecca encouraged, petting his hand, “She went through a lot of changes in a really short space of time. Now she has to figure out how to do everything with a baby.”

“I hope so,” he sighed. He didn’t care about a little baby weight. You were still healthy and it was fine. It was nothing for him to lift you up still, so it was fine. The problem was that you weren’t happy. You loved them, he knew that. He knew you wanted him. He just hated that you felt so uncomfortable in your body. 

Emma fussed and Rebecca held out her hands, “Come here, pretty girl,” she said, “I know. Daddy isn’t very comfortable to lay on. He’s too hard.” Bucky chuckled and handed her her niece, “I’ll have you know she falls asleep on me all the time. So does her Mommy.” 

“The mommy you were too shy to even ask on a date,” she said primly, cuddling her niece, satisfied when she quieted and her big brother blushed.

______________

Nat put you to the mat again and you lay there for a second, panting and feeling stupid. You knew Nat wasn’t even going full speed and you were struggling to keep up. The spy offered you a hand and hauled you easily to your feet, “You okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” you say stretching, “Just slow.”

She tutted, “Well I’m pretty sure Bucky’ll be mad at me if I send you home with more bruises... I say we forget this and go shopping.”

“I’ll watch you shop. Maybe shop for Emma,” you tell her, rubbing your neck.

“Come on, Y/N,” she said taking your arm to go get cleaned up, “When’s the last time you bought yourself something fun? You don’t have to wear those ugly maternity tops anymore... Let's go? Please?”

She pouts at you prettily and you sigh, nodding. The thought of trying on clothes made you feel... gross. You were hiding in a hoodie and leggings and that was fine. No one could see all the things you hated.

Nat kisses your cheek, “It’ll be fun,” she encouraged, “You’ll see. Maybe we’ll even find something Bucky can take off you. With his teeth.”

You snort in spite of yourself and start to get undressed to get cleaned up, careful to keep her from seeing any of you. “Nat,” you say, “I- it’s not. It’s fine.”

She frowns, “Come on. You’ve not had sex in months,” she says over the shower, “You’re gonna forget how.”

You stay quiet. You don’t know how to explain it. You could tell anyone else the same things Natasha and your other friends had told you. Encourage them to love themselves. But, for you. All you could hear was all the anxious thoughts. All the things Ashley told you when you got a little plump as a pre-teen, gearing up for a growth spurt. Getting ready to get taller and curvier. All the mean girl comments that made you question everything about yourself from what you wore to books you let other people see you reading, trying to avoid being teased any more.

You dry yourself off and pull on your clothes behind the curtain, still hesitant to be seen. You didn’t even get dressed in front of Bucky any more. Natasha doesn’t press. She’s heard the kind of shit that your older sister had said to you while she was in your house. Read her backhanded comments on your pictures on social media. She hated it. 

True to her word, Natasha drags you through countless stores that sell pricey lingerie. Gently but firmly forcing you into dressing rooms and refusing to let you shop for Emma. “You deserve a treat,” she says over your protests, putting something that’s all gauzy, pastel fabric and looks like something that would never buy yourself. “Nat,” you say blushing, “I don’t- I mean.” She nudges you gently, “Just try it on,” she said, “This is the one. I know it.”

“Bucky doesn’t even like this kind of thing,” you protest. 

“It isn’t for him,” she said calmly, “It’s for you. If you feel pretty you’ll feel better.” 

“I didn’t feel pretty before,” you groan, “How’s this going to help?”

“Y/N,” she scolded, “You’re fucking hot. If Steve wasn’t in the picture I’d steal you from Bucky so fast... Like. He’s Lucky. So fucking lucky. You gave birth 8 weeks ago. You’re doing great just leaving the house in jeans with your hair brushed.”

You smile a little and she pushes things to try on into your hands, “Just... take a minute and imagine what Bucky is gonna say when he sees you in this one. if he can even talk. Does he talk or does he just tear your clothes off?” 

You blush and smile in spite of yourself. He’d been so good to you. Patient while you healed. You missed the way his voice sunk to a low growl next to your ear as he called you a good girl. His good girl.

Natasha shuts the dressing room door and takes a seat, waiting for you to let her see it. 

When she hears you take a deep breath and tell her “Okay,” she stands and slips into the dressing room, careful not to open the door too far, mindful that you were already feeling vulnerable and nervous. 

“Y/N,” she said, whistling softly, “You have to buy this one. He’ll love it. You look like a pin-up. It’ll drive him nuts.”

When you look uncertain she smiles a little, “Honestly. It covers the things you don’t like and still shows off the rest of you. It looks really good. Just put your hair up and find that red lipstick he likes. He’ll probably lose his mind.”

You take a deep breath and nod, not wanting to disappoint her. “Do you like it?” she asked softly, tilting your chin up, not missing the way you’re still trying to hide behind your arms. “It’s really nice just... not on me.”

She kisses your head, “What don’t you like?” she asked.

“Me,” you say simply, “I feel like a clown.” 

“No,” she said firmly, “Get out of your head. This isn’t you. It’s a model at a fashion show. What’s wrong with the garment? Not your body. This is someone else. You wouldn’t say the things you say about yourself to someone else.”

It takes a long minute. Natasha keeps a hand on your shoulder comfortingly, waiting for you to quiet the insecurities so you can be objective. “It’s not long enough and the proportions are weird. She’s short and it makes her look stubby instead of petite. The color doesn’t work with her skin tone. It looks like they took something made for a smaller woman and made it bigger... it looks like a tent,” you say finally. Your voice is dispassionate. Matter of fact. Nothing about the body of the “model” just what you don’t like about the clothes. 

“Perfect,” the redhead said grinning, “I can work with all of that... I think I saw just the thing.” 

________

By the time you get home, Bucky is settled on the couch with Emma, one hand behind his head and the other rubbing her back. You shove the bags into your closet, feeling tired and a little guilty when he smiles up at you, “How was your work out?” he asks watching you collapse into a chair. 

“Fine,” you say, “Nat got tired of wiping the floor with me so she decided we’d be better off going shopping.”

Bucky smiled a little, “Good,” he said stretching, “I’m glad you went and did something fun. Did you buy yourself anything? Or did you just buy for Emma and I?” 

“Nat wouldn’t let me buy for you two,” you say smiling a little, “I got distracted by baby clothes and she smacked the back of my hand.”

He chuckled and sat up, going to take Emma to lay her in her playpen, “Did you buy anything?” he asked. 

“A couple things,” you answer, hesitant to tell him what. Or from where. 

He doesn’t ask though. He doesn’t need to. Steve had told him, because Nat had told him, worried that she might have pushed you too hard and made you feel weird. Natasha hadn’t told Steve specifics. As much as Bucky wanted to ask. To tell you to go put it on and let him admire you. Let him tear it off with his teeth, as Natasha had put it. 

He missed you. He missed the feeling of you asleep on his chest with his cock inside you. Being comforted and horny. Knowing his Queen is happy and safe. Sated. 

“Come cuddle?” he asked, holding his arms out. 

You go to him and nestle close, leaning back against his chest as Whiskey scrambles up to lay on your legs and get his pets too. He loves Emma. He whines at you when she cries, worried she might be broken or something. But he likes getting all your attention. Or at least sharing with just Bucky. 

Bucky wraps his arms around you, putting his hands in your hoodie pocket, frowning when you tense up and removing them before you wiggle out of his arms to keep him from doing it. He doesn’t understand why he can’t touch your stomach. He knows it’s not the same and he doesn’t care. It’s still you. 

“I love you, kid,” he murmurs against your ear. You hum sleepily in response and his hands slide to your shoulders, rubbing gently. Looking for sore spots left by using muscles you hadn’t used in a while. He found them deftly and worked gently, satisfied when you relax a little. At least until Emma starts to cry and you’re off the couch with Whiskey before he can even think the words “I’ve got it, baby.” 

You pick her up and cuddle her, rocking her softly and murmuring soothing nonsense as you care her up the stairs and Bucky watches you go, Thankful that some time and Penny being gone had convinced you that you really could take care of your kid. Whiskey trots back downstairs, tail wagging, satisfied his little sister was in good hands and curling up in his still-warm spot on the sofa.

You come back downstairs, still holding Emma, now changed into some jammies and looking cozy. “There’s my girls,” Bucky rumbles holding his arms out again for you to snuggle in to. 

You go, happy to be held for a while and rest your head on his chest sleepily, “What do you want me to make for supper?” you ask yawning. He chuckles, “I think Nat wore you out today, Princess,” he answers, “How about I just order a pizza and we call it an early night. Got you a hot bath. You’re gonna be sore tomorrow after letting Nat beat you up all afternoon.”

“We shopped a lot longer than she wiped the floor with me,” you admitted, “And she took it easy on me.” 

“I’d hope so,” he snorted, “It’s been a year since you did full contact sparring with anyone. You’re out of practice.” He kisses your shoulder and looks down at his dau, her tummy is full and she’s cozy, fast asleep. She has your delicate features. Tiny and sweet. And his hair. He’s going to be a heartbreaker. “Mama and Auntie Nat are going to scare all the boys away,” he tells her, teasing you, “Daddy and Uncle Steve won’t have anything to do.” You roll your eyes and kiss his jaw. 

“How about you put Emma to bed and I’ll start your bath?” he tried, eager to try and entice you into putting on the things you’d bought with Nat. Eager to feel you around him again.

“A bath sounds nice,” you murmur, starting to get up to head back upstairs.

__________

Bucky tried to resist the impulse to find a reason to be in the bathroom. He wanted a peek at you. He missed you. He missed the casual way he could just touch you and make you go weak at the knees. He missed sleeping naked. The feel of your skin under his hands. 

Instead, he made sure Emma was set for the evening, making sure you’d have his undivided attention if you wanted it. He didn’t want to pressure you. He knew you didn’t feel like yourself yet. That you were still recovering from everything from an assassination attempt and being forced to resign to childbirth to two weeks of being torn down by your mom and your sister while you were already fragile. He knew it could be a little bit before you felt like making love. But he still made sure there were condoms and massage oil and anything else he could need for you in his nightstand drawer. 

When the door opens, he turns and his heart stutters. Your hair is done up. Your make up is done, making your eyes look luminous and your red lips remind him of juicy red cherries. The negligee you’re wearing is all flowy fabric and is a soft powder blue. For a second he can’t think. You look so soft and so painfully shy. Ready to bolt if he doesn’t tread carefully. 

“Sweetheart,” he said breathless, “I thought you said you didn’t buy me anything.” He grinned, “You look good enough to eat, Doll.” 

You look up at him shyly and he holds out his hands, grabbing for you, “Gimme,” he demands playfully. “You like it?” you ask cautiously.

“Darlin’,” he drawled, “I used to dream about dames that wish they could look like you.”

He pulls off his shirt and pulls you into his arms as he picks up the remote for the stereo to flip it on. Soft music, music he likes to play when he can’t find the words to tell you what he’s feeling, fills the room. “Dance with me?” he whispers.

You nod, struggling to find the words he needed. “We’re gonna take this slow, baby,” he says, rubbing your thicker bottom lovingly, “Emma is fine. Whiskey is settled in... I got you all to myself. I’m gonna enjoy this.”

“I love you,” you tell him.

“You’re such a good girl,” he answers, his voice thick with need, “God, baby. You might be more beautiful now that you were the day Becky decided we needed to date. Fuck, Y/N I love you so much.”

His lips crashed against yours, a devouring kiss that leaves you staggering against him and any illusion of taking it slow dissolved into nothing. 

You need him. You need to see the rest of him. To feel him burning up under you. 

The diaphanous fabric is no match for him, in tattered shreds on the floor as he tosses you gently onto the bed with a growl. You can’t think. All there is, is him. He floods your senses. The sight. The smell. The sound of his growls. The taste of him. It bangs the sense out of you. It hits better than Ecstacy. It floods out the way your tummy and thighs jiggle. It makes you forget about your stretch marks and lack of muscle tone. 

His growls drown out the anxiety. There’s nothing but him. The feel of him as he mouths at your breasts and kneads you backside with eager fingers. 

You don’t know how much time has passed but it doesn’t matter. As he slides inside you easily, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He pins your wrists above your head and pushes into you, claiming your lips in a searing kiss. “So fucking good for me,” he praises, “Good girl. You’re gonna come apart for me, aren’t you? Gonna let me make you come.”

He teases your clit softly and rolls his hips into you. He revels in your cry when you come apart for him, following you with a groan. “Bucky,” you pant, clinging to him, pulling him close. “I’m here,” he says, breathless, “Princess I’m here. I’ll always be here.” 

________

“I can’t believe you really tore that off of me,” you say giggling as you lay on his chest in the soft lighting, his prick sheathed inside you.

“It was in my way,” he said swatting your bottom affectionately, he feels like a cat basking in the sun. Sleepy. Content. If it weren’t for his cock being kept warm inside you this would feel wholesome. 

“Still,” you say blushing. 

“Still nothing... baby you look beautiful. That look... I- that was perfect. You’re prefect like this too,” he praised, “I missed feeling you warm my cock for me. Seeing you all lazy and satisfied... We can’t go that long without sex again, baby. I’ll explode.”

You giggle and he swats your ass again, savoring the way you squirm at the sting, “Brat,” he says, without any real heat, “Behave or I’m gonna go get you a book.”


	23. Chapter 23

Bucky smiles at his daughter. She was watching you spar with Ty, drooling all over herself as she gummed a teething toy. “What do you think, baby girl? You wanna do that someday?”

She looks up at him and babbles happily, telling him all about it and he nods, “Mama is talented, isn’t she?” Ty gets to his feet and grabs your foot, flinging you aside like a ragdoll. Emma shrieks and Bucky pats her back, “It’s alright,” he said, “Look, Mama’s already taking care of it.”

When you help your older brother to his feet laughing, Emma giggles and Bucky wipes her mouth gently. You stroll across the grass and Ty flings an arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your head. Emma reaches for you, babbling and you take her from Bucky gently, cuddling her and kissing his cheek.

She babbles and tugs at your hair happily, “Is that so?” you ask. “I’m sure Daddy was telling you all sorts of things, the question is whether or not it’s true.” He grins, “I wouldn’t lie to my best girl,” he says. “Mhmm,” you hum, carrying her into the house to get her down for her nap, whiskey at your heels.

Bucky watches you go, watching Emma snuggle into your shoulder starting to fuss. Getting tired now that you have a hold of her. She always sleeps fine when you put her down but, nothin’ doing when Bucky does it. She wants to play. All day. Naps aren’t a thing until she gets cranky. He’s thankful that you’re better. That you felt like yourself again. He’d been worried for a little while. Scared that you’d not been ready. That you’d agreed to having Emma just because you’d wanted to make him happy. That the stress and pressure had hurt you in ways that you’d not recover from. 

Ty sprawled inelegantly in a chair with a groan, “Can’t believe my little sister kicked my ass that good.” Bucky snorted, “I can. You’re fucking slow.” 

“I’m getting too old to let her beat me up,” he yawns. Bucky shook his head, “Bull shit. I’m 100 and change and I still spar with her.” Ty rolled his eyes, “Yeah but when you spar with her you move about half speed. I gotta move faster. She’s fucking tiny. And quick.” Bucky nodded, a little proud of you, “She’s slick,” he said.

You wander back out to the porch and Bucky pulls you onto the arm of his chair. You’re sweaty and hot but he doesn’t care. “Emma down for a nap?” he asked. You nod, “Out like a light,” you answer stretching, “Think I’m gonna go run. Take advantage of not having to get the stroller out.” Bucky pinched your hip, “Don’t go too far. There’s gonna be Stragglers showing up soon.”

You nod, “I’ll be back soon. Just want to stretch my legs.” 

_________

When you trot up the steps, Whiskey behind you, Nat whistles at you, “Damn,” she teased, “You look good.” Your cheeks color, “Thanks,” you pant. 

She walks with you into the house and you snag an orange out of the bowl on the counter. “What is Bucky supposed to be cooking?” she asked. “Not sure… I heard a rumor he was planning on grilling burgers.”

Emma fusses, waking up from her nap and you’re head turns towards the living room, “No,” Nat says fondly, “Eat your orange and go shower. I can take care of my sweet pea.” She’s already heading that way, “I’ve been waiting for her to wake up anyway. We have a story to finish.” You shake your head fondly and head up the stairs, grateful that the way Nat tended to take over felt different from the way your mom had. She took over to make you take care of yourself or give you a short break. It felt different than your mom charging in and demanding things be done her way. 

By the time you come back down, clean and dressed in fresh work out gear, Bucky smiled and passed you a plate with a burger, some fries, and some grilled vegetables. “It looks good,” you tell him, stealing a kiss and a soda out of the cooler, “You’re such a good house husband.” He grins and pops you on the bottom, “I had a good teacher,” he said. He was proud of himself. He did the Stragglers dinner all himself. It felt good. 

He had a house, a wife, a little girl… Things he never thought he was gonna get. He watched laughing as Emma reached for you and Nat gave her up, tickling her neck and calling her a traitor. You both have the same nose crinkle when you giggle. “Don’t worry. It’s not me she wants,” you tut, kissing her dark hair, “She wants the pickle off my plate.” Emma makes grabby hands at it and you give it to her, letting her gum it happily.

“I’ve literally never seen a baby eat pickles,” Steve said. You snort and take a bite of your lunch with a satisfied little noise. Bucky sits on your other side with his plate and opens your pop for you, aware that your hands are a little full. “Emma is definitely hers,” he says, “I tried to give her a bite of ice cream the other day and she wouldn’t take it.” 

Steve laughed, “Oh no, now who are you gonna eat icecream with?” Bucky shrugged, “Whiskey still likes it,” he said.

Emma looked to where Whiskey was playing with Sam, playing fetch. She looked serious as she gummed her pickle, slobbering all over you and herself.

“Pup!” she shouted finally, reaching for him. You laughed and cuddled her, but she wasn’t having it. She wanted down, she wanted to go play with her big brother. You let her go and she toddled forward on shaky legs. “Puppuppuppuppup,” she babbled, clapping when she plopped down on her bottom in the grass, reaching out to pet his nose, giggling when he licked her hand.

“That’s definitely your kid,” Bucky said grinning and wiping tears off your face.

You laugh and hide your face in his chest, he kisses your head and watches as Sam stands there, looking from Emma back to Whiskey, “No fucking way!” he said. He sprawls on the grass, partly to listen to her babble and partly to make sure Whiskey doesn’t get too rowdy.


End file.
